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Rise of the Standard Republic

By Steven Gordon



Part I: Rise of the Standard Republic



Chapter 1: One of Our War Admirals Is Missing





	War Admiral Norman North, ruler of the Standard Imperium, was 
dead.

	Well, he wasn't technically dead, but his mind was gone, largely 
destroyed by an old fashioned bullet from a sniper's rifle. His deputy, 
Admiral Roger Dulin, had been implicated in the plot to kill the War 
Admiral, and General Anatoly Karn, of the planet Pushkin, formerly the 
capital of the Slurian Union, had stepped into the vacuum to seize 
power. 

	Steven Quick, who had helped in the fight to rid humanity of the 
Insect invaders, had disappeared. The Meddler Capybara, who also played 
a key role in the war, was dead.

	The only senior leader from that time to survive was superspy 
Clifford Croft. Well, his survival didn't exactly surprise him; Croft 
knew, with little modesty, that he was the survivor type. Still, he 
grieved for friends both absent and lost. 

	Croft reflected on this as he typed up a report in the spacious 
offices of Imperial Intelligence, formerly known as the Column. The 
massive building housing the Column HQ had been destroyed in the first 
minutes of the Insect war, when Croft had been uncomfortably close by; 
it had been rebuilt during the early days of the Imperium.

	Back then it had been called the Standard Imperium. Now it was 
merely known as the Imperium. It wasn't simply a difference in 
semantics, or the colors of the Imperial uniforms. When War Admiral 
Norman North had ruled the Standard Imperium, it had been a more open, 
vibrant society, encompassing the former planets of the League, the 
June Directorate, the Slurian Union, and the other inhabited planets. 
When General Karn took over, however, he clamped down on dissent, 
raised taxes, and garrisoned all major planets "for their own 
protection". It was a dictatorship, to be sure, but then, War Admiral 
North had run a dictatorship as well; but one with a decidedly 
different tone.

	Croft wondered why he stayed in service. He didn't particularly 
care for General Karn's governance; but then, he hadn't particularly 
cared for the old League either. The League had been weak, corrupt, and 
slow to respond to external threats. General Karn's government, though 
more repressive than the League, had built up the armed forces, to make 
sure another Vitalics incident could never happen again. That was what 
was most important to Croft; after decades of living under Insect 
occupation, security was his most important issue. He knew that Karn's 
regime was somewhat more repressive than the one it had replaced, and, 
while troubling to him, wasn't enough to make him quit.

	But there were other reasons for his unhappiness. Croft turned to 
a fellow agent sitting next to him. "Remember when we used to be 
infiltrators?"
	"We are infiltrators," said Preston, the agent sitting next to 
him.

	"No we're not," said Croft. "There's nothing left to infiltrate. 
Every planet belongs to the Imperium."
	"We infiltrate all the time," said Preston. "Arms smugglers, drug 
dealers-"

	"Sure, sure, but it's not like taking on an entire planet, an 
entire government whose efforts are directed against you," said Croft.

	"Getting too easy for you, Cliffy?" said Preston. "I noticed in 
your last arms bust you almost got shot in the back."

	Croft waved a hand dismissively. "They missed me by nearly a 
foot. No, I'm thinking I want more of a challenge."

	"The galaxy is united. We should be glad that we live in easier 
times," said Preston.

	"Yeah," said Croft. 

	"If it's any consolation, things don't usually stay calm for 
long," said Preston.



********



	"You're being foolish," said Colonel Borscht.

	Emperor Karn, ruler of all the Imperium, gave Borscht a glare. He 
could sense that things were finally coming to a head. 

	"Who is the one being foolish?" said Karn, giving him a deadly 
stare.

	"You are," said Borscht. He held up a datapad. "You're rounding 
up some of your best scientists in the fields of physics and 
astromechanics and particle engineering."

	"They are traitors," said Karn.

	"Three of them have made disloyal statements. And 43 others you 
have judged guilty by association," said Borscht.

	"So?"

	"So you need them if you are to develop superior technology."
	"We have the greatest spacefleet in the galaxy, and we have no 
enemies!" said Karn. This was ridiculous.

	"You have the greatest spacefleet in your tiny corner of the 
galaxy, and it is only a matter of time before you meet your next 
enemy," said Borscht impatiently, as if he were talking to a child. 

	"How can you know that?" said Karn. "Our probes have found no 
signs of other life."

	"You have only probed perhaps twenty percent of your galaxy," 
said Borscht. "You never even located the Insect homeworlds."

	"I understood that they were safely on the other side of the 
galaxy," said Karn. "Without their spacegate, how could they even reach 
us?"

	"By building another," said Borscht. "Has that ever occurred to 
you?"

	"You think they will build another?"
	"There's no way to know," said Borscht. "Even if they don't, 
perhaps another hostile alien race will find you."

	"I think the internal threat is greater," said Karn.

	"And I think you're a fool," said Borscht.

	That was it. "That's the last time you are going to render that 
opinion," said Karn. He pressed a button, and two guards entered, 
blasters drawn. They wore the all black uniforms of the Emperor's 
Personal Guard.  

	Borscht looked at the soldiers without fear; if anything, he 
showed amusement. "Don't you remember what I said would happen if 
anything were to happen to me?"

	"You claimed to have some incriminating information that would 
suddenly become public," said Karn. He didn't wish to be any more 
specific, even in the presence of his personal guard. "I have 
extensively researched this, and found no evidence of any such 
information."
	"It exists," said Borscht.

	"Nevertheless, you will be thoroughly interrogated prior to your 
execution," said Karn. "If such information exists, you will reveal its 
location."
	Borscht shook his head sadly. "Brute force. That's all you know, 
just like the Insects. They never listened either."

	"Listened to what?" said Karn.	

	"Listened to me," said Borscht. 

	Suddenly, Karn felt a wave of fear. He didn't know its source. 
The guards, trembling furiously, ran away in terror.

	Borscht slowly approached Karn. The fear only increased.

	"Who are you?" Karn asked. 

	Borscht's image flickered, changed. In a matter of seconds he had 
changed into a green skinned hooded creature. "You can call me 
Baracki."



******



	General Can Erland was the ruler of the Standard Imperium. This 
wasn't to be confused with the much larger Imperium, ruled by General 
Karn. This was a portion of the original imperium, ruled by Admiral 
Myster Harkness, which had refused to accept Karn's authority when the 
War Admiral was shot. After a tense showdown Karn had allowed Harkness 
to govern his area independently. Over time Karn's government came 
simply to be known as the Imperium, while Harkness's handful of planets 
retained the name of the Standard Imperium.

	But after the situation had stabilized Harkness had promptly 
retired, handing over authority to his trusted deputy, General Tens 
Erland. Although technically a dictatorship, like the Imperium, unlike 
the Imperium there was no repression of any kind here, with complete 
freedom of the press, commerce, and freedom to travel.

	Former Admiral Stacy Wren entered General Erland's office. 
Although this was an Imperium, Erland, like Harkness, refused to be 
called Emperor; he was simply addressed by his name.

	"Admiral, thank you for coming," said Erland, looking 
unexpectedly apologetic.

	"I retired decades ago," said Wren. "I hope I'm not being called 
up for active duty."

	"No," said Erland, looking uncomfortable.

	Erland could only be calling her about War Admiral Norman North. 
Wren suddenly pieced it together. "He's dead, isn't he?"

	Erland shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

	"Norman's dead, and you wanted to tell me first, before you break 
it to the press," said Wren. Her face looked grief stricken.

	"No," said General Erland. "War Admiral Norman North isn't dead; 
at least, not that we know of."

	"Not that you know of?" said Wren. "He's in your top military 
hospital. How would you now know how he's doing?"

	"Because he's gone." said Erland. "No, not dead, gone. Simply 
gone."
	"General, can you speak more clearly?"
	"As you know, he's been guarded by an honor platoon from the 
204th brigade since he arrived here," said Erland. "Two nights ago, he 
simply vanished."

	"Vanished! How?" Wren asked.

	"We don't know," said Erland. "The guards nearest to him were 
found asleep at their posts."

	Wren found this preposterous. "Asleep? What kind of soldiers did 
you send to guard him, General?"

	"The best," said Erland crisply. "It's a distinct honor to guard 
the War Admiral, and we sent the best. And the soldiers weren't 
derelict in their duty, not unless you believe that eight of them would 
fall asleep at the same time."
	"Eight of them?" said Wren. "Did you check for-"

	"Drugs, everything," said Erland. "We found no sign of tampering. 
Yet obviously they were tampered with."
	"And Norm-"

	"No sign," said Erland. "We sealed off the area, and did a 
widescale search. There was no sign of him."

	"He can barely speak or think. What would someone want with him?" 
said Wren.

	"I don't know," said the General.
	"But you're going to keep looking for him, right?" said Wren.

	Erland was silent.

	"Right?" Wren repeated.

	"We don't know where to look," said Erland simply.



********



	"The Screen," said Karn slowly.

	"You know of us?" said Baracki.

	"I've seen all the intelligence reports from the Insect war. 
There were rumors that the Insects were getting help from an outside 
force, an outside force that were called the Screen."
	"I am a member of... what you call the Screen."

	"You attacked us...." said Karn. His eyes widened. "And now you 
are here to assassinate me!"

	"You are even stupider than I expected," said Baracki. "I have 
been working for you for years. I helped you attain power."

	"Why?" said Karn. "Why did you help the Insects attack us, and 
then help us now?"
	"We changed our calculations," said Baracki. "I represent a... 
group that believes in helping less advanced races."

	"You didn't help us when the Insects attacked," said Karn.

	"At the time we were helping what you inaccurately call the 
Insects," said Baracki. "We felt that we could help them build up a 
dominant society that could rule the galaxy."
	"What changed?" said Karn.

	"You beat them," said Baracki. "Oh, you had some outside help, we 
know that now. But your fleet was almost entirely destroyed, your 
planets occupied, and yet you rose up and beat them. That impressed 
us."

	"Really?" said Karn. "And so you decide you want to help us."

	"I've been helping you for many years, even before we met," said 
Baracki. "If it weren't for me, this entire planet would be little more 
than dust, floating in empty space."

	Karn opened his mouth, and then closed it. He appeared to think 
rapidly. "Queen Zsst... she was on that Monumental ship that was about 
to destroy August."

	"Correct," said Karn.

	"And for some reason, at the last minute, she turned the ship 
around and headed away," said Karn. "We never knew what changed her 
mind."

	"She never changed her mind," said Baracki. "I liquidated her 
mind."

	Karn stared at the hooded creature. "You killed the Insect Queen 
to save August."

	Baracki nodded.

	"Why?" Karn asked.

	"Because I saw the potential in your people," said Baracki. 
	"The potential to rule the galaxy."

	Karn's eyebrows lifted.

	"Under a strong ruler," said Baracki. "Our philosophy doesn't 
embrace the mindless bickering that was present in your former 
Alliance. I believe you also called it democracy. We believe in a 
strong, governing force to guide development."
	"Like an Imperium."

	"Correct," said Baracki. 

	"The War Admiral used to rule the Imperium," said Baracki. "Why 
didn't you offer to help him?"

	"I did," said Baracki. "He wasn't very open minded."
	"So you helped me kill him," said Emperor Karn.

	"He wasn't killed," said Baracki. "In any event, all that was 
needed was to get him out of the way. And in that we were successful."
	"And so... what now?"

	"Now you continue to improve your technology, build up your 
military, and colonize new planets," said Baracki. "You must prepare 
yourself for the next threat."
	"The next threat? What is the next threat?"
	"You are not yet ready," said Baracki. "You must continue to 
develop."
	"All right," said Karn. "I will devote even more resources to the 
military."

	"Good," said Baracki. "And do not grip too tightly to power that 
you strangle your resources." He indicated the datapad with the list of 
scientists.

	"Would you permit them to plot against me?" said Karn.

	"Just because some of them don't like you doesn't mean they're 
plotting against you," said Baracki. "But at the same time you don't 
have to tolerate an undue level of dissent. Bring the three lead 
scientists to me for personality adjustment; when they are released, 
they will serve as an example to the others. The other scientists will 
think twice before resisting your rule."

	"All right," said Karn.

	Baracki flickered, and suddenly appeared to be Colonel Borscht 
again. Karn licked his lips, wondering how this changed the governing 
equation.





Chapter 2:  Dalbo's Escape



	Borscht's real identity wasn't the only surprise that Karn had to 
deal with; the next day, the news of the War Admiral's disappearance 
reached him. He felt fear even as Baracki entered his throne room.

	"War Admiral Norman North has vanished," said Baracki. Though 
they were alone, he was in human form. Perhaps he realized that if 
anyone else saw him in his alien form, that would raise a lot of 
unwanted questions.

	"I didn't do it," said Karn.

	"I know that," hissed Baracki, not even trying to keep the scorn 
out of his voice.

	"Do you know who took him?" Karn asked.

	"One of the factions, obviously," said Baracki.

	Obviously. 

	Obviously? "What factions?"

	"It may not surprise you to learn that humans are not the only 
creatures in this galaxy," said Baracki. "There are many others, many 
of whom are more advanced than your race. Some of them group together 
into factions."

	"Factions? You mean, each species?"

	"Sometimes," said Baracki. "Factions can be groups of species. 
What binds them together is ideology."

	"And what are these factions doing with him?"	

	Baracki shrugged. "You will find out soon enough when they 
strike."

	"That doesn't sound encouraging."

	"Your job is not one for the faint of heart," said Baracki. "You 
will have enough trouble dealing with your own internal resistance."
	"What resistance?" said Karn.

	"Strikes. Dissidents. Protests."

	"Scattered and isolated," said Karn dismissively. "Yesterday you 
were telling me not to worry about internal threats."
	"There are real internal threats, but your tame scientists are 
not what you have to worry about," said Baracki. "You need to be 
concerned with organized resistance."

	"Organized by whom?" Karn asked.

	"I'm not sure," said Baracki. "I have tasked your Preventive 
Security Service to find out. They haven't been capable. All we know is 
that they call themselves the Freedom League."

	"The Freedom League?" Karn frowned. "What do they want."

	"They claim they want free elections," said Baracki. "I don't 
know what their real agenda is. Or who their leader is."

	"It seems there's a lot you don't know."

	"You are just like her," said Baracki.

	"Like who?"

	"Zsst," said Baracki. "She expected me to solve all her problems 
for her as well. Our assistance sometimes has that effect, creating 
dependency."

	"I'm not dependent on you," said Karn. "I will have a talk with 
Preventive Security."

	"Don't waste your time," said Baracki. "This organization has 
many layers. Their leader is quite elusive."

	"How do you know?"
	"I can sense it," said Baracki.

	Karn didn't ask for further elaboration. Instead he said, "What 
other option is there?" Karn asked.

	"Give Imperial Intelligence the assignment," said Baracki.

	"If Preventive Security couldn't locate a leader, I don't see why 
Imperial Intelligence would," said Karn.	

	"Preventive Security doesn't have your most capable agents," said 
Baracki.

	"Preventive Security is my personal security service. They are 
most loyal-"

	"And filled from the ranks of your former NGB," said Baracki. 
"But most loyal doesn't always translate into most capable. Most of 
your former NGB agents have, at one time or another, been defeated or 
outwitted by Clifford Croft, for example."

	"You propose that I give Croft this assignment?" Karn asked.

	"He is your most capable agent," said Baracki.

	Karn paused.

	"He has served you for nearly 20 years quite capably," Baracki 
added. "He was also instrumental in helping you obtain your current 
position."
	Karn nodded.

	"But you still don't trust him as you do your former NGB agents," 
said Baracki.

	"I will have this task assigned to him," said Karn. "If there is 
no one to locate, there is no harm done. If there is a leader 
coordinating this, we must find out who he is. However Croft has spent 
most of his adult life working for representative governments. He might 
be sympathetic to this group."

	"Then we will simply need to give him a reason to pursue it more 
closely," said Baracki. 

	"What do you have in mind?"
	Baracki paused. Then a gleam came into his eyes. "Tell him the 
Freedom League is a front group. Tell him it is a front group whose 
real goal is to put the Terrible Thinker into power."

	"The Terrible Thinker!" said Karn. The Terrible Thinker was a 
genius, who had ruled over his own dictatorship many years ago, before 
the Insect invasion. "He's dead. Everyone knows that."

	"Don't be so certain. His body was never found. It wouldn't 
surprise me to find out that he is still active. Nor would it be beyond 
him to use the trappings of democracy to try to get back in power," 
said Baracki.

	"You think this is being coordinated by the Terrible Thinker?" 
Karn asked.

	"No. It does not seem to be his pattern," said Baracki. "However, 
Croft could be convinced that it is. He has fought the Terrible Thinker 
before, and if we tell him it is the Thinker he is hunting, he might 
display more initiative than your Preventative Security agents."

	Karn considered, and then nodded. "Make it so."



	That afternoon Croft was summoned to the office of the director 
of Imperial Intelligence, Walter Magnuson. General Walter Magnuson. The 
direct of Imperial Intelligence was always a military man, nowadays.

	General Magnuson gave a perfunctory smile and gestured for Croft 
to have a seat.

	"How are you, agent Croft?'

	Croft shrugged. "Pretty well, sir."
	"I understand you've been getting restless lately."

	"How so?"

	General Magnuson pressed a button and a holoimage of Croft 
appeared from that morning.

	"Remember when we used to be infiltrators?" said the holoimage of 
Croft, talking to Preston.

	He played the conversation through until the part where Croft 
said he was looking for more of a challenge. Then the General stopped 
the recording, and looked at him.

	Croft shifted in his seat slightly, as if trying to think of what 
to say to fill the slightly awkward silence. Then he said, "If I knew 
my daily activities were going to be that high up on your viewing 
priorities, I would work harder to make them more entertaining."
	"You are our top agent, Croft," said Magnuson. "No, I am not 
exaggerating, you are the very best we have. And we like to be sure 
that the best we have are happy."

	"Well, that's very kind of you, sir," said Croft guardedly. 

	"That's why we've gotten something more challenging for you to 
do," said Magnuson.
	"And what would that be?" Croft asked.

	"The Freedom League," said Magnuson. "Does that name sound 
familiar to you?"
	Croft tried to look dumb. "Not really, sir."

	"Well, it's not surprising, since you've been working in a 
different division," said Magnuson. "There are a handful of 
troublemakers who are calling for the overthrow of the Imperium and 
what they call free elections." He waited for Croft to comment, perhaps 
give an opinion, but for once Croft kept silent.

	"We have tolerated these cranks until now but they have recently 
stepped up their activities."

	"Well, if they're only a handful, how much trouble could they 
be?" Croft asked.

	"We don't like to let small problems fester and become bigger 
ones," said Magnuson. "That's why we want you to track down the leader 
of this Freedom League and bring him to justice."

	"Do we have any idea who this might be?" Croft asked.

	"Yes, actually we do," said Magnuson. "Someone we believe you are 
familiar with. He goes by the name of the Terrible Thinker."

	"The Terrible Thinker? He's dead!" said Croft.

	"He got better," said Magnuson sarcastically. "Our intelligence 
indicates he is using this democracy movement as a front to takeover 
the Imperium."

	"Does your intelligence also indicate anything about where he's 
operating from?"

	"Well, if we knew that, we wouldn't need your extraordinary 
services," said Magnuson. "I'm having a file transferred to your 
datapad which contains a list of local agitators. Start with them and 
work your way to the Thinker."

	"Yes, sir," said Croft. Croft got up to go, but Magnuson gestured 
for him to take a seat.

	"There's one other, ah, matter, Mr. Croft."
	"Sir?"

	"I believe you are familiar with a Super Special named Dalbo 
Alto?"

	The Super Specials were the group of people formerly known as the 
"Gammas" in the days of the League, people with special mental powers 
who worked with Column agents on assignments.

	Seeing as Croft had actually discovered Dalbo and brought him in, 
he couldn't exactly deny knowledge of him. What trouble had Dalbo 
gotten into now?

	"It seems he's had some sort of crisis, some kind of mental 
breakdown," said General Magnuson. "The doctors are perplexed. I was 
wondering if you could have a look into it."

	"Me, sir? I'm no doctor," said Croft.

	"You're his friend," said Magnuson.

	Croft gave him a look.

	"Well, at least you know him," said Magnuson, reconsidering. 
"He's mentioned your name once or twice. See if you can find out what's 
gone wrong with him. The doctors are agitating to use more aggressive 
measures. I'm trying to hold them off, but if he doesn't get better, 
we'll have to try alternative treatments."
	Croft didn't quite know what Magnuson meant but he knew he didn't 
like the sound of it. "I'll look into it, sir."

	"Good," said Magnuson. "I knew you would."



	The "Super Specials" were housed on the upper floors of one of 
the most modern apartment buildings on August. Formerly they had been 
housed deep underground surrounded by intense security. The security 
was still there, but there was a new element... luxury. Each Super 
Special had elaborately furnished apartments, with the latest 
holoentertainment gear installed, and personal chefs and masseuses and 
playfriends to cater to their every needs. 

	While the furniture had changed, the environment hadn't; as soon 
as Croft stepped off the airlift, he was confronted with screaming and 
shrieking individuals who were running around in circles, yelling at 
the top of their lungs.

	"Well, it's good to see that some things haven't changed," he 
said to himself. He passed through several layers of guards, and saw an 
orderly in white trying to restrain a "Super Special" from hitting 
another "Super Special" with a giant wooden spoon. The fact that the 
giant wooden spoon was part of the Super Special's right hand didn't 
strike Croft as odd. Croft knew him. This could only be Crazy Rob.

	"Excuse me," said Croft, trying to get the attention of the 
orderly who was wrestling with Crazy Rob's spoon hand. "Can you tell me 
where I can find Dalbo Alto?"

	"He's there," said Crazy Rob, pointing with his spoon as he 
continued to struggle with the orderly.

	"Thanks," said Croft. He entered a room to see Dalbo sitting on 
the floor, mumbling to himself. A doctor with a datapad was staring at 
him. "Oh, you must be Croft," said the doctor. "I was told you were 
coming, though I don't see it will be much use."

	"What do you mean?" Croft asked.

	"He's nearly catatonic. Unresponsive to stimuli," said the 
doctor.

	Croft looked at Dalbo. Dalbo was looking at the floor, mumbling 
incoherently. "Did something trigger this?"

	"Not that we know of," said the doctor. "It just started, all of 
a sudden, a few weeks ago."
	"Hm," said Croft. "Dalbo?" he said.

	Dalbo didn't respond.

	"Dalbo!" said Croft, more loudly. Still no response. Croft slowly 
extended his foot. Dalbo gave no reaction. Croft pushed slightly.  That 
also got no reaction. Croft nudged a little more. Dalbo fell over on 
his side.

	"See what I mean?" said the doctor.

	A beefy male nurse entered the room. The doctor turned to confer 
with him for a moment.

	Suddenly, Dalbo made eye contact with Croft. He looked at Croft, 
then at the doorway, then back, and forth again.

	The doctor finished his short conversation and turned back. Dalbo 
suddenly looked vacant again, and started mumbling.

	"Let me have some time with him," said Croft. "Maybe I can figure 
out what's wrong."

	"You're welcome to try," said the doctor.

	Croft started to pull Dalbo up by the arm.

	"What are you doing?"
	"Going for a walk," said Croft. He got Dalbo on his feet, with 
some effort.

	"He's practically catatonic," said the doctor.

	Croft continued to pull Dalbo, who slowly walked on his own two 
feet. "But he's still a dynamite walker."

	They left the building and went to a nearby park. They were 
trailed by a very conspicuous pair of guards at a distance.

	Croft looked around, to make sure no one else was nearby.

	"All right, Dalbo, talk," he said in a low voice, continuing to 
pull Dalbo by the arm.

	"I knew you would come," said Dalbo.

	"I'm your hero," said Croft.

	"Not to touch," said Dalbo, pulling his arm away from Croft's 
grasp.

	"I see you're feeling better already," said Croft.

	"There was never anything wrong with me," said Dalbo.

	"That's highly debateable," said Croft. "So what's going on."
	"Cruelty. Insane cruelty."

	"Dalbo, I just pulled you by the arm," said Croft.

	"I was not referring to that," said Dalbo, glaring at him. "It's 
them. They want me to do terrible things."

	"What kind of terrible things?"
	"Tell them what people are thinking," said Dalbo.

	"Uh, Dalbo, you're a telepath. That's what you do," said Croft.

	"Yes, but until now I never selected ordinary people for torture 
and death."

	"Torture and death?" said Croft. "Ordinary people?"

	"Oh, look at all the blades of grass!" said Dalbo, looking down 
suddenly. Dalbo had a philosophy or a sense of aesthetics (Croft wasn't 
sure which) called Reductionist Stimulism. He could get excited by very 
small things--the scratches in a road, the shape of a group of clouds, 
and spend hours counting them and trying to discern patterns among 
them. At the moment Dalbo was fixated by grass.

	"Dalbo, don't get distracted," said Croft. "What are they having 
you do?"
	"They're having me go through the government," said Dalbo. 
"Looking into the plodding minds of the bureaucrats, looking for 
deception, disloyalty."

	"Really? That's a pretty intense kind of loyalty check, to read 
people's minds!" said Croft. In the old days, the Column had used Dalbo 
selectively, on enemy agents to ferret out information, but never to 
check on the loyalty of large numbers of their own people.	

	"They want me to report on everyone. Even people who merely 
dislike the government," said Dalbo. 

	"What happens then?" Croft ask

	"They take them away."
	"They take them... where?" Croft asked.

	"I don't know the specific location."

	"But you do know what happens to them?" Croft asked.

	Dalbo nodded. He saw it clearly in the minds of the Imperium 
officials.  "To torture, to brainwashing, and sometimes, to death," 
said Dalbo.

	"What? Who is doing this?" Croft asked.

	"I saw it in the minds of the creatures from Preventive 
Security," said Dalbo.

	Preventive Security was performing large scale loyalty checks? 
And torturing and killing people? Why hadn't Croft heard about this?

	"So that's why you got sick," said Croft, suddenly understanding. 
Of course Dalbo didn't have the stomach for such work.

	"Yes," said Dalbo. "Most of the people I looked at don't like the 
Imperium. But they shouldn't be killed for that." He looked down again. 
"Have you noticed the patterns in the grass?"
	"Yes, it's very interesting," said Croft. "But getting back, just 
for a moment, to non-flora subjects, can you tell me how long you've 
been on your little work strike?"
	"For a few weeks," said Dalbo. "They've tried a number of painful 
therapies."

	Croft could only wonder what that statement meant.

	"I think they're going to try invasive brain surgery next," Dalbo 
said.
	"What? How do you know-"

	"From the mind of one of the doctors," said Dalbo.

	Doctors? Butchers, it sounded like. But Croft knew that Dalbo 
could be a little paranoid at times. He started to say that he highly 
doubted they would do anything like that. But then he remembered that 
General Magnuson had hinted that they might have to try more 
"aggressive" treatment. Dalbo might be right.

	"These people you claimed were tortured, killed. I want their 
names," said Croft.

	"I don't know all their names."

	"Don't be so literal! I don't want all their names, just a few I 
can check on," said Croft.

	Dalbo rattled off a few of them. Croft took notes on his datapad.

	They kept walking as they talked. "Notice how the grass seems to 
bend in a north by northwesterly pattern?" Dalbo said.

	"Yes, wind, grass, green," said Croft, paying virtually no 
attention to this as his his mind was working in overtime. If Dalbo was 
telling the truth, there was no way he could go back to work for 
Preventive Security. But if he didn't go back to work, they would 
remove pieces of his brain. That solution didn't work for Croft either.

	"I'll have to take you away from Preventive Security," he 
concluded.

	"Yes," said Dalbo. "That's why I had them send for you. Violence 
is your department."

	"You really know how to flatter your rescuer," said Croft dryly.

	"So let's go," said Dalbo.

	"It's not quite that simple," said Croft. "See those two guards 
behind us?"

	Dalbo looked and extended a finger.

	"Yes, those two, the ones you are very conspicuously pointing at, 
that's very nice," said Croft. "You can put your hand down now, by the 
way, they see you."
	Dalbo lowered his arm. 

	"They might not like it if you suddenly went away," said Croft.

	"Why don't you shoot them?" Dalbo asked. "That's usually your 
solution to almost every situation."

	"Much as I might like to shoot them, in this very public place, 
it would make it clear that I'm working against the Imperium, and I 
might get in trouble for that," said Croft.

	"Oh," said Dalbo, as if he hadn't considered that. "So what do we 
do?"
	"You're going to go home now," said Croft. "Keep up the catatonic 
act for a few hours. Then start acting normally again."

	"Then they will want me to work for them again."

	"Delay them. Tell them you're feeling better, but want a few more 
days to rest. In the meantime, ask to see every one you know--every 
doctor, every nurse, and say random things to each of them."

	"Why?" Dalbo wanted to know. If he were reading Croft's mind, he 
would know. But mindreading took energy, and effort, and interest, not 
all of which Dalbo had all the time.

	Croft gave a great, big sigh. "Because when you do disappear, I 
don't want it to be on the record that I was the last person you talked 
to. People might get suspicious, you see?"
	"Oh," said Dalbo.

	"Then, on the fourth night, wait for me in your room," said Croft
	"You'll come and get me?" Dalbo said.

	"That's the general idea," said Croft.

	"Will there be much violence?" Dalbo wanted to know.
	"As much as you like," Croft assured him.
	"All right, then," said Dalbo.

	They started back towards the building. Croft's mind was racing. 
How was he going to rescue Dalbo? Where was he going to put him? More 
importantly, was Dalbo right about the Imperium? Dalbo and his "Super 
Specials" were notoriously paranoid. Croft had to find out for himself.

	Croft went to a public information terminal. He palmed a device 
which shorted out the surveillance system. Since this was a public 
terminal, it would be several hours before it was checked out.

	Croft typed in a false ID and a series of codes, enabling him to 
access a database he shouldn't have had access to, certainly not from a 
public terminal. But what he needed to do he didn't want done from his 
traceable terminal at work.

	Croft typed in some of the names Dalbo had given him. Each one 
brought up a name, a picture, and some background information. Also 
listed, more disturbingly, were "disloyal thoughts". Disloyal thoughts?

	Croft tried to find out where these people currently were. But 
each time he made the query, all he got back was "Classified--see 
department 19." The result was the same for each of them.

	When Croft tried to look up department 19, the terminal started 
to respond more slowly. Nonresponsive pages of data with many menu 
options came up, whose purpose was to have Croft spending his time 
looking through them.

	Croft looked up. On the other side of the building he saw a 
commotion at the far entrance.

	When the security officers reached his terminal, there was no one 
to find.



	Croft peeled off his finger pads as he exited the building. He 
was confident he had gotten out before security had seen him. But he 
was most disturbed by what he learned.

	The Imperium was killing people not for being traitors, not for 
committing disloyal acts, but merely for having disloyal thoughts. 
Ordinary people, as Dalbo had said. Members of the bureaucracy, 
teachers, officers of corporations, journalists, and others. Knowledge 
of this shook Croft to the core. He knew there had been censorship, and 
monitoring, but he didn't know the repression extended to his level. 
This was as bad as the old Slurian Union.

	But then, Emperor Karn used to be a high ranking officer in the 
former Slurian Union.

	Croft returned to his office in Imperial Security. Preston 
glanced up at him. "So? Did Magnuson give you an assignment?"

	"Yes," said Croft.

	"What is it?" Preston asked.

	"The Terrible Thinker," said Croft dully.

	"Him? The Thinker? Again? Not again! I thought that guy was 
dead!" said Preston. 

	"We have to try harder this time," said Croft.

	Preston gave a grin.

	"The director thinks that he's behind a group called the Freedom 
League which is seeking to overthrow the Imperium," said Croft.

	"That sounds like his style. Do you need any help?" said Preston.

	Croft's eyes narrowed. Preston had said it so innocently, but 
nothing random could be trusted that happened now. Could Preston be 
trusted? Croft had worked with him for hundreds of years. He had 
trusted him more times than he could count. He knew Preston better than 
almost anyone else in the galaxy. If he couldn't trust Preston, which 
person could he trust?

	But on the other hand, people do change.

	"Sure I can use your help," said Croft easily. 

	Croft told Preston about the data that Magnuson had provided. 
Preston sifted through it. "It says here that a group of professors at 
Sarney U may be plotting to overthrow the government. Professors?"

	"I see it too," said Croft calmly. "They've been monitored for 
some time. We even have the time and location of their next meeting. 
It's tonight"

	"Is this really worth checking out?" said Preston. "I mean, I 
can't really imagine a bunch of teachers leading an armed revolution."

	Croft, aware that everything, including even his facial 
expressions, were being monitored, tried to look thoughtful. "I think 
so, yes." He changed the subject. "Have you had lunch yet?"



	They took a walk in a nearby park, not far from the one that 
Croft and Dalbo went to earlier that day. Croft told Preston what he 
had learned. Preston looked surprised and shocked. "They're killing 
ordinary people? For having impure thoughts?"

	"I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it myself."

	"Maybe this department 19 you mentioned is some sort of prison," 
said Preston.

	"If it were, they would be listed as inmates. The only reason 
they wouldn't be listed if they were eliminated, and if you didn't want 
it widely known they were eliminated," said Croft. He looked around to 
see if they were being followed. He didn't think so, but couldn't be 
sure.

	"But if this were going on, why wouldn't we know about it?" 
Preston asked.

	"They've been having us go against the drug dealers and arm 
smugglers, while they've been having Preventative Security doing their 
dirty work," said Croft. 

	"But still, Dalbo couldn't scan more than a handful of people a 
day. How many people could they be doing this to?"
	"I don't know," said Croft. "But I get the feeling it may be a 
lot more. I never liked the look of those Preventive Security people, 
did you?"
	"No," said Preston. "Most of them are former Slurian NGB agents."

	"With little emphasis on the former," said Croft. "And evidently 
old habits die hard."

	They walked in silence for a while. Then Preston said, "So what 
do we do now? Lodge a protest?"

	"I think if we did we would be sent to department 19," said 
Croft. "I think..."

	"Oh no, not again," said Preston. "I can see where this is going. 
Not again Croft! I'm tired of overthrowing governments. Can't we have a 
break?"
	"I take it you're in agreement with me, then," Croft said, 
translating Preston's sentiment.

	"Yeah, I guess so," said Preston. He glanced down. "Does this 
mean you can take your hand off your blaster now?"
	Croft did so. 

	"You think you'd know me, by now," said Preston. "How many 
hundreds of years have we worked together?"

	"Oh, I never had any doubt about you," said Croft, falling into 
liespeak so easily that he didn't realize it.

	"Uh huh," said Preston, interpreting Croft perfectly. "So where 
do we start?"
	"First, we stop those professors at Sarney U. from being sent to 
department 19, or whatever the bureaucratic equivalent for having your 
brains blown out are."

	But that didn't prove so simple. Later that day, General Magnuson 
called Croft on the intraoffice holocom to inquire about his progress. 
Croft, speaking to the holographic image of the director, reported that 
they were planning to infiltrate the meeting of the professors that 
night.

	"Good," said Magnuson. "I've been reading some reports about 
them. If their meeting is subversive, as we expect, have them brought 
in for questioning."
	"Yes sir," said Croft.

	"You can drop them off at the Preventive Security office across 
the street from our headquarters," said Magnuson.

	"Preventive Security?" Croft inquired. "Isn't this our 
investigation?"

	"Of course, but Preventive Security usually handle interrogations 
of this kind," said Magnuson. "They're professionals in this area."
	"Uh, of course," said Croft. Professional torturers; professional 
assassins; Preventive Security was simply another name for the old 
Slurian NGB.

	"Also, once you have them in custody, we'll want you to gather 
their family members," said General Magnuson.

	"Family members?" said Croft, trying not to sound as alarmed as 
he felt.

	"Just the immediate family members and associates, for routine 
questioning," said General Magnuson. "When the branch is rotted, 
sometimes you have to go after the entire tree, eh?"
	"What a metaphor. Quite a good point, sir," said Croft. He signed 
off and the image of the General disappeared. Croft saw Preston staring 
at him. As they were in their offices, which were surely monitored, 
Croft only said, in a dull tone, "Everything will be fine." And he gave 
a moronic smile to emphasize the point.



	That night Croft was sitting in an empty classroom at Sarney U, 
with his feet up on a desk. Preston casually entered the classroom. 
Croft cocked and eyebrow.

	"It's done," said Preston. "Wired for sound and visual."

	"Good," said Croft. He checked his chrono, and opened his 
datapad, setting it to the frequency of the monitoring devices. A 
classroom two stories below them appeared on the screen. Professors 
were filing into the room.

	Croft pressed the record button. They would need this, for 
evidence, if the professors were taken in for questioning.

	"Is the backup team standing by, ready to make the arrests?" 
Croft asked.

	"Yes," said Preston. 

	The professors shuffled into the classroom. In a few minutes, the 
meeting began.

	"It's obvious the current system can't work," said one professor.

	"It always loses?" said another.

	"In most of the simulations, yes," said the first professor.

	"Then we'll just have to readjust the variables," said the third 
professor. "Maybe if we allocated more political power to the Imperium, 
those playing the Imperium's side would have a fairer chance."

	"We have to make the game balanced," said another professor. "If 
we make it too easy to overthrow the Imperium, no one is going to want 
to play the game on the Imperium's side. Everyone will want to play the 
game from the democracy insurgency side."

	"It's a computer game," said Preston. "They're not talking about 
overthrowing the Imperium. They're talking about making a computer 
game." He tried to sound astonished.

	"Imagine that," said Croft. "I guess it's some kind of political 
simulation."

	"I wonder how the previous monitoring attempts failed to pick up 
on this," said Preston, trying to sound puzzled.



	It was a question they were both asked the following morning. 
"All our reports indicated they were planning real subversion, not some 
game play," said General Magnuson.

	"You can listen to the tapes yourself, sir," said Croft. "It's 
very clear what they were talking about."
	"But how could the previous reports have missed this?" Magnuson 
asked.

	"Who conducted the previous listentaps, sir?" Croft asked 
innocently.

	"Well, it was Preventive Security, of course," said Magnuson.

	"They are a less experienced agency," said Croft. "Perhaps they 
misinterpreted, or exaggerated a little bit in their reports."
	"Possibly," said Magnuson. He frowned, then nodded. "Very well. 
Keep sifting through the data. You're both dismissed."
	They didn't talk about the matter further until they went out to 
lunch. While they were on the street Croft said, "Are you sure you 
weren't picked up on any of the monitors when you warned the 
professors?"
	"What do you think I am, an amateur?" said Preston.

	"Good work," said Croft, nodding.

	"It was your idea," said Preston. He changed the subject. "What 
do we do next? If we keep coming up with dead ends they're going to 
start to get suspicious," said Preston.

	"I know," said Croft, looking around. He had a feeling they were 
being watched, but he couldn't find the spotter. Was he just being 
paranoid? He probably was being paranoid, he decided, but he was 
equally sure he was being followed. With Croft, both could be true.

	"The clock has started to tick, Crofto. We have to be thinking of 
strategy," Preston reminded him.

	"I have a more immediate deadline," said Croft. "I have to get 
Dalbo out of lockdown in three days or else he'll be scheduled for a 
radical brainectomy."

	"That's pretty tough," Preston opined.

	"Getting him out shouldn't be too difficult; the problem is where 
to put him," said Croft.

	"A safehouse?" Preston suggested.
	"Somehow I don't think any of our safehouses will be too safe." 
Croft said. 
	"Why don't we make one of our own?" Preston said.
	"A good idea," said Croft.

	The next day director Magnuson provided them with more 
information about "subversives" planning a meeting in a residential 
home outside of the capital. "I want those subversives brought in and 
interrogated," said Magnuson.

	"Yes sir," said Croft.

	They studied the data file at their desk, but only talked about 
it after work.

	"A journalist who wrote, or rather tried to write an article 
critical of the Imperium, before it was censored." said Preston, 
reading aloud. "A school teacher who made an unflattering comment about 
Emperor Karn to his school kids. And a mechanical engineer who shorted 
out the power grid for an entire city block for nearly an hour, 
apparently by accident."

	"Economic sabotage," said Croft, smiling grimly.

	"It's reminding me more and more of the Slurian Union," said 
Preston. "Are we really going to take these guys in?"

	"No," said Croft.

	"The Chief will be doubly suspicious if we let these guys get 
away," said Preston.

	"We're not going to be the ones who let them get away," said 
Croft. "By the way, don't look directly at two o'clock, but do you 
notice the man, over there, standing by the fountain?"

	"Yes," said Preston, barely glancing in that direction.

	"He was watching us yesterday," said Croft. "And that's just one 
I can spot."

	"They're watching us," said Preston. "Unsure of our loyalties."

	"With good reason," said Croft. 

	"So how are we going to pull this one off?"
	"It would be almost impossible to do ourselves. So we're going to 
get outside help." 

	"From who?"

	Croft put an arm around Preston's shoulder. "From our good 
friends at Preventive Security," said Croft.



	That evening, Croft and Preston and a team from Imperial 
Intelligence were huddled across the street from the apartment complex 
where the subversives were planning to meet.

	"We're all ready to go," Preston said formally. Since they 
weren't sure who else in Imperial Intelligence they could or couldn't 
trust, they had to keep up the act even in front of their own team.

	"When I give the word," said Croft. He looked at the surrounding 
street, and frowned. "Do you notice those two people sitting in the 
aircar, over there?"

	Preston looked, as if noticing it for the first time. "Yeah."

	"Notice their posture, the way they're looking," said Croft. 
"I'll bet they're lookout men for the subversives."

	"How can you know that?" said one of the agents.

	"A few hundred years of intuition," said Croft contemptuously.

	"Can you be sure?" said one of the agents.

	"Let's find out," said Croft, putting his hand on his blaster. He 
and Preston and two other operatives casually walked across the street, 
ignoring the aircar. It wasn't until they got across the street that 
they suddenly veered towards the parked aircar. Croft and his men drew 
their blasters. 

	"Hands up, get out of the vehicle!" Croft snapped.

	The two, looking surprised, did just that. Only Croft noticed 
that Preston swiftly walked over to the far left side of the car, while 
everyone's attention was focused on two getting out of the right side 
of the car.

	"What do you think you're doing?" said one of the two.

	"Identify yourselves," said Croft cooly.

	"I'm Tom Healy. Preventive Security," said one of the men. 

	"You're under arrest," said Croft crisply.

	"On what charge?" said Healy.

	"Interfering with official business," said Croft. "Take them 
away."

	"You can't do that!" said Healy.

	Preston, who had smoothly returned to the other side of the car, 
said, "Actually, yes we can." He raised his blaster.

	Both men were marched off as they rejoined the rest of their 
forces on the other side of the street.

	"Should we begin the assault, sir?" said one of Croft's 
operatives.

	"Yes, as soon as we get these two locked down," said Croft. "I 
just want-"

	He was cut off in midsentence by an explosion that sent them 
tumbling to the ground. When they looked up, they saw that the aircar 
that the Preventive Security agents had arrived in was in flames.

	Croft gave the Preventive Security operatives a sharp glare, and 
sent his agents in to arrest the subversives. But, when they got there, 
he already knew they would find nothing.



	"Botched!" said Magnuson. "This whole mission was botched."
	"I agree completely, sir," said Croft.

	Magnuson looked surprised. "You're taking responsibility for 
this?"

	"No sir," said Croft. "It was all the fault of Preventive 
Security."

	"You shouldn't have arrested them! You had no authority-"

	"Sir, there were unidentified armed men in the vicinity of our 
stakeout. Preventive Security didn't tell us they were going to be 
there. Neither did you. You did know, didn't you?"
	"Well, I knew in a general sense they were monitoring the 
situation," said Magnuson, looking away quickly for a moment. "But the 
commotion of your arresting them alerted the subversives."

	"The subversives were alerted before we even reached the scene," 
said Croft firmly.

	"How do you know that?" said Magnuson.

	"They planted a bomb in the car of the Preventive Security 
agents," said Croft. "They knew they were being watched long before we 
arrived."

	"How could they have planted a bomb while the Preventive Security 
agents were in the car?" Magnuson asked.

	"They're amateurs, sir," said Croft. "This really isn't the kind 
of work that they're suited for."

	"What do you think they're suited for?"
	Croft shrugged. "Maybe checking luggage at the spaceport."

	"Croft!"

	"Or maybe directing traffic on our busy thruways."

	"Croft!"

	"I'm sorry sir, but you did ask the question."
	The Chief glared at them. "Dismissed."



	General Pano Zarucki was the elite commander of the Preventive 
Security force. And right now he wasn't very happy. Normally, he would 
have the source of his unhappiness interrogated, or executed, or both, 
but in this case he had to act very delicately. Clifford Croft wasn't 
just an ordinary citizen who could be made to disappear in department 
19. 

	But Croft would pay for his insolence. Twice now he had made 
Preventive Security look foolish. Preventive Security already had an 
intense rivalry with Imperial Intelligence. Many of Imperial 
Intelligence's agents were former Column agents from the old League; 
many of Preventive Security's agents were former NGB agents from the 
former Slurian Union. Emperor Karn had purposely set up these competing 
agencies to keep an eye on each other. 

	Croft's actions merely increased the intensity of the antagonism. 
Zarucki couldn't take action against Croft directly, but if Croft had 
an accident... or could be proved to be a traitor.....

	An officer wearing an eyepatch entered his officer and saluted. 
"You called for me, sir?"

	"Colonel T'keya Latr," said Zarucki. "I take it you are 
acquainted with the one called Clifford Croft?"

	"That would be an understatement, sir," said Latr, tensing up at 
the name.

	"In your former occupation as an NGB agent you went up against 
Croft time and time again--and failed," said Zarucki. "Hardly an 
inspiring record."
	"Sir, I-"

	"If it makes you feel better, the reason I am giving you this 
assignment is that when it comes to Croft we have no one with a record 
of success. At least you are experienced with him and know a little 
what to expect in term of his abilities and tactics."
	"Yes sir," said Latr. "You wish me to eliminate him?"

	"No, nothing so dramatic," said Zarucki. "Nor do I think you are 
even capable of that job."

	Latr flinched, but said nothing.

	"Instead your mission is merely to gather information," said 
Zarucki. "Gather evidence showing this man is disloyal to the 
Imperium."

	"Yes sir!" said Latr, giving a broad smile.

	"No crude fabrications, Latr," said Zarucki sharply, reading 
something into that smile that he both recognized and disliked. "I 
don't want anything that would reflect badly on you, or this office, 
when your information is later disproved. I want real evidence."
	"But... what if he is loyal?"

	"Then see that some harm comes his way," said Zarucki.



	A few hours later, Latr was sitting in his own spacious office. 
An operative entered and saluted.

	"Ah, yes, Captain Branch," said Latr. 

	"Reporting as ordered, sir," said Branch. Juliet Branch was an 
operative with Preventive Security.

	"Have you ever heard of a man named Clifford Croft?" Colonel Latr 
asked.

	Branch tried to hide her surprise at the mention of the name. 
"Croft, sir?"

	"Yes," said Latr. "He's an operative with Imperial Intelligence."

	"I haven't worked with any operatives with Imperial Intelligence 
recently sir," she said, phrasing her answer carefully.

	Colonel Latr didn't notice the distinction, or her failure to 
answer the question directly. "Well, Croft, he's a troublemaker, and we 
suspect he's a traitor."

	"A traitor, sir?" said Branch.

	"That's what you have to find out. Get the evidence, and bring it 
to me," said Latr.

	"And if there is no evidence to be found?"
	Latr glared at her. "Then we'll handle this another way."	



	The following day Croft was preparing to head out with Preston to 
check out some not-too-promising leads on the Freedom League when Croft 
and Preston were called to General Magnuson's office. When he entered 
Magnuson greeted him, and asked how the investigation was going. 

	"Preston and I were about to go out and pursue some leads now, 
sir," said Croft. Of course Magnuson knew that already, if he watched 
the live holo feed from Croft's office.

	"Ah, yes, that's what I want to talk to you about," said 
Magnuson. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to take agent Preston off the 
case."
	"Why, sir?" Preston asked.

	"There are new reports of a drug smuggling ring operating off of 
Karis. I want you to look into it."

	"But Croft and I usually work together," said Preston.

	"Yes, well, this time we cannot afford to have all our top 
expertise operating on one assignment," said Magnuson. "Not to worry, 
agent Preston, you can pick a small team to accompany you."

	"Thank you, sir," said Preston.

	"All right, I guess I can handle this alone," said Croft.

	"There's no need, agent Croft," said Magnuson. He pressed a 
button, and a young man with a blank expression entered his office. 

	"Agent Elmer Banks reporting for duty, sir," the newcomer saluted 
crisply.

	General Magnuson returned the salute. "Agent Banks, meet your new 
partner, agent Croft."
	"Agent Croft," said Banks. "It's an honor to be working with you, 
sir."
	Croft looked at Banks. He looked young and incompetent. Then he 
looked at Magnuson. Magnuson looked old and serious. Then he turned 
back to Banks. He still looked young and incompetent. "Ah, no offense, 
sir, but I think on a delicate matter like this, I'd prefer to work 
solo," said Croft.

	General Magnuson pretended to look puzzled. "You were prepared to 
work with Agent Preston."
	"Well, Preston is very... experienced. He won't get in my way. 
How long have you been with Imperial Intelligence, Agent Banks?" Croft 
asked.

	"Two years, sir," said Banks woodenly.

	"Then it will be a good learning experience for him. I want you 
to help train our new agents," said Magnuson. He looked hard at Croft. 
"Is there a problem, Agent Croft?" he asked, his tone growing cold.
	"No sir," said Croft.

	"Then you're dismissed."

	As they left the director's office, Banks turned to Croft. "So, I 
understand we are going out to pursue some leads."
	"In a little while."
	"What's the delay?" Banks asked.

	"I have a little more research to do at my terminal, first," said 
Croft.

	He sat down at his terminal. Preston sat down at his, opposite 
Croft's. Banks stood a few feet away, while Croft typed.

	Croft stopped typing. He looked up at Banks. "Don't you have 
someplace to be?"

	"My assignment was to stay with you," said Banks.

	"I expect we'll be eating and sleeping in different places," said 
Croft.

	"Of course," said Banks.

	"Don't you have a desk?" Croft asked.

	"Yes," said Banks.

	"Then go there. I'll comm you when I'm ready," said Croft.

	Banks reluctantly left.

	Croft looked at Preston who looked back at him. It would be very 
suspicious now if they both decided to take another walk in the park 
right now.

	Instead, Croft started typing in his terminal. After a few 
seconds, Preston did the same. Under the desk, meanwhile, Croft started 
to softly press on Preston's boot, in code. Slowly, they 
pressure/tapped messages to each other.

	HE IS CLEARLY A SPY, Preston tapped.

	WERE ALL SPIES, Croft replied.

	SPYING ON US, said Preston.

	THATS PRETTY CLEAR, said Croft.

	DO YOU THINK THEYRE ON TO US, Preston asked.

	IF THEY KNEW FOR SURE WED BE IN DEPT 19, Croft replied.

	WHAT DO WE DO, Preston asked.

	ILL SET UP A SECURE MEANS OF COMM, Croft replied.

	WHAT ABOUT DALBO, Preston asked.

	That's right! Croft was supposed to rescue him tonight.

	DO YOU WANT ME TO DO IT, Preston asked.

	NO, ILL HANDLE IT, said Croft. Dalbo only trusted him.

	WHAT ABOUT YOUR TAIL, Preston asked.

	ILL GET RID OF HIM, Croft replied.

	He looked up at Preston. "Good luck with your hunt for those drug 
dealers on Karis, buddy,"

	"Same to you, Croftie," said Preston. "And have fun with your new 
partner."
	"Yes," said Croft dully. "Lots and lots of fun."

	Croft commed Banks and he appeared, a little too quickly, as if 
he had been lurking somewhere nearby. They then went to check on some 
leads that Croft was fairly sure would prove fruitless. Banks watched 
him intently as the day wore on, taking mental notes, no doubt, for his 
report later to his superiors. Croft put on a good show for him, 
speaking as little as possible, offering as little explanations as he 
could. Finally, by early evening, when they had discovered nothing of 
value (as Croft had hoped) Croft told Banks that they were going to 
quit for the day.

	"What do you mean?" Banks asked.

	"I mean, go home," said Croft. "You do have a home, don't you?"
	"Yes sir," said Banks.

	"Then go there."

	Banks looked reluctant. "Shouldn't we check out some more leads?"
	"Tomorrow."

	"The leads might get cold."

	"We'll warm them up," said Croft, not even pretending to try and 
say anything coherent.

	Banks looked reluctant. Croft waved him a cheerful goodbye and 
started walking.

	Croft walked casually for two blocks without looking back. Then 
he turned around a corner and waited. A few seconds later agent Banks 
turned the corner.

	"Your tailing technique needs some work," Croft said.

	"I, just wanted to be sure you weren't doing any investigating 
without me," said Banks. "The Chief said I was to be present with you 
at all investigations."

	"And be assured you will be," said Croft. "But if you follow me 
home, I might be tempted to lock you up in my basement and practice 
some of my lesser known interrogation techniques on you."

	"Oh. I'll be going now," said Banks.

	"Very good," said Croft. "Goodbye. Goodnight. It's been a 
pleasure."
	Croft walked a few more blocks. After he was reasonably sure he 
was no longer being followed, he changed course. In a few minutes he 
was strapped to a gravitator, heading across the city. As he flew he 
got some equipment in hand, notably the sensor jammer. He aligned it to 
a certain frequency and then flew to apartment building housing the 
Super Specials, specifically to the window showing Dalbo's bedroom. And 
Dalbo. Croft hit the button that disabled the security systems and flew 
right up against the window. 

	But Dalbo was nowhere to be found.

	This was not part of the plan.

	It would take only a few minutes for security to be alerted and 
to discover the location of the security breach.

	Thoughts raced through Croft's mind. Had Dalbo been moved? Had he 
been already given brain surgery? If so, there was nothing he could do 
for him now.

	At that moment Dalbo entered the room. He seemed totally 
unsurprised to see Croft strapped to a gravitator, hanging outside his 
window. He was slowly eating something from a small plate.

	Croft used a silent laser to cut through the glass, and then 
suction cups attached to his hand to slowly lower the section of glass 
against the frame of the building. All the while Dalbo continued to 
watch him with wide eyes, still eating slowly.

	"Come on," Croft hissed. "Get aboard!"

	Dalbo slowly came to the window and looked down. "Scared," he 
said.

	"Well you won't be scared when they rearrange pieces of your 
brain."

	"A valid point," said Dalbo. He gingerly climbed on board the 
gravitator (this one was a two seater) and strapped himself in, careful 
not to look down again.

	As soon as Dalbo was strapped in Croft gunned the engine and they 
headed away. "Where were you?" said Croft.

	"Dinner," said Dalbo.

	"I told you to wait for me in your room."
	"Tonight they had sturinberry for dessert," said Dalbo.

	"Well, if I bring you back, maybe they'll give you some more 
after your brain surgery," Croft said.

	"Where are you taking me?" Dalbo asked.

	"Someplace safe."

	"Safe?" said Dalbo.

	"Probably safe."
	Preston had set up a safehouse on one of the underground levels, 
a small, windowless room. 

	When they arrived Dalbo immediately said, "I don't like it."
	"Sorry," said Croft. He indicated some boxed supplies. "You 
probably won't like the food either. If you're unhappy, I encourage you 
to go out and wander around for a few minutes. It shouldn't take longer 
than that for the security cameras to locate you and alert the 
authorities."

	"You're cruel," said Dalbo.

	"Yes, I'm the cruelest rescuer you've ever met," said Croft. 
"Here," he said, indicating a medium sized box.

	"What is it?" said Dalbo. He squealed as he opened it.

	"Yes, it's hundreds of plastic toothpicks, all in different size, 
shapes, and colors. I figure you can spend weeks working out all the 
different arrangements and combinations."

	"Very gooood," said Dalbo, already starting to count and examine 
them.

	"All right," said Croft. "Listen, I'll be back when I can. All 
right, Dalbo?"
	But he received no reply. Dalbo was already focused on his newest 
joy.





Chapter 3: A Visit to Levi



	

	The next day Croft  and Banks were summoned to Magnuson's office 
again. "We have uncovered additional information about potential 
subversives." 

	"Really?" said Croft.

	"Some subversives were seen in the company of former senator Phil 
Beagan," said Magnuson, watching him carefully.

	Beagan had been a senator in the days of the old League. Croft 
had met him, once or twice, and by the way Magnuson was looking at him, 
it seemed he knew it.

	"Beagan is a subversive?" said Croft. "Beagan, working with the 
Terrible Thinker? I find that hard to believe."

	"Oh, we don't think the esteemed former senator is a subversive," 
said Magnuson. "At least, not actively so. However, he may have been 
duped by this so-called Freedom League. Senator Beagan isn't in any 
trouble. All we would like to do is to have a talk with him."

	"They why don't you?" Croft asked.

	"Unfortunately, the good Senator has disappeared," said Magnuson. 
"I would like you to follow up with his known associates and see if you 
can't locate him." He paused. "Is this a problem?"

	"No sir," said Croft. 

	"I assure you no harm will come to him, if he cooperates," said 
Magnuson.

	"Of course, sir," said Croft. He turned to go.

	"There's one other matter," said Magnuson. "You recall your 
friend Dalbo Alto who you saw a few days ago?"

	"Friend is a strong word when it comes to Dalbo, sir," said 
Croft.

	"Yes, well. Apparently he has escaped from the complex," said 
Magnuson.
	"Escaped?" Croft said, trying to sound only mildly surprised.

	"And with outside help," said Magnuson. He looked hard at Croft. 
"What did he say to you when you visited him, Croft?"
	"Not much," said Croft. "He just mumbled how he felt confused."

	"Yes, well, a few hours after speaking to you, he appeared to 
return to normal. Then he met with a number of people over the course 
of the next few days. And then he left."

	"You think one of the people he spoke to helped him to escape?"
	"Or gave him the idea to," said Magnuson, his eyes on Croft. "Do 
you have any idea who that might have been?"
	"No sir," said Croft. "I don't know any of the medical staff."

	"Yes, that's what I thought, but I thought I'd ask, just for the 
record," said Magnuson. "Poor fellow, I don't think he can survive on 
his own. It would be a tragedy if anything were to happen to him." He 
stared hard at Croft.

	"Yes, it would," said Croft. "Would you like me to join in the 
search for him?"

	"No, that's being adequately handled by others," said Magnuson. 
"Start your search for Senator Beagan."

	"Yes sir."

	"And keep me informed," said Magnuson.

	"Yes sir, we will," said Croft, glancing at Banks.



	Senator Phil Beagan, in league with the Freedom League? Not only 
was that linguistically redundant, but the idea of Phil Beagan working 
for the Terrible Thinker was impossible to believe. Which either meant 
that Beagan wasn't working for the Terrible Thinker, and this was some 
sort of political vendetta by the Imperium against him, or else he was 
working for the Thinker without realizing it--which was very possible, 
given how the Thinker liked to work through third parties.

	Croft keyed through the list of known associates that Magnuson 
had provided him. The name of Magnuson's former chief of staff stood 
out. He might know where Magnuson was.

	Wait a minute. If Croft really was going after Beagan, and he 
found him, what would he do? Turn him over to Imperial Intelligence? 
That wasn't a very good idea either. Not for a moment did he believe 
that General Magnuson simply wanted to have a "chat" with him. After 
his interrogation, whatever remained of Beagan would be shipped to 
Department 19 for slaughter.

	No, he couldn't turn Beagan over to Imperial Intelligence. Croft 
would wait and decide what to do after he had found and talked to 
Beagan. But having a private chat with the Senator would not be easy to 
do with his personal spy dogging his every step.

	Croft passed Preston in the hallway.

	"How's it going, Cliffie?" Preston asked.

	"Fine," said Croft. "How's the weather today?"
	"Windy," said Preston.

	"Just like yesterday," said Croft. Both he and Preston ignored 
Banks, who was standing there, taking in every word they were saying.

	"I got home just in time for the gravity ball holotournament 
yesterday," said Croft.

	"Really? Did you catch the whole thing?" Preston asked.

	"Yes, it went exactly as expected," said Croft. "Ramirez won."

	"Well, that's what we thought would happen," said Preston.

	"I don't think he's going to win if they keep challenging him to 
rematches, though," said Croft.

	"Really?" said Preston.

	"Yes, I think he could lose his title in a few days, maybe a 
week," Croft added.

	"Well, I'm going to be on August for a few more days before I 
head out to Karis. I'll have to tune in and see," said Preston.

	"You do that," said Croft. He casually made his goodbyes and 
parted.

	"I didn't know you liked sports, Agent Croft," said Banks.

	"You can add that to your next report. Just make sure you put a 
"u" in holotournament," said Croft.

	Banks made an unhappy face. "I'm not here to spy on you."

	"I know," said Croft. "If you were, you wouldn't be doing a very 
good job of it."

	"Are you this hard on all your new partners?"

	Croft gave no answer, and just walked casually down the hallway.

	

	They spent much of the day following up on some of their leads, 
including Beagan's former chief of staff, but to Croft's lack of 
surprise, none of them could be found. All had gone into hiding. But 
Croft really did want to Senator Beagan, if only to get more 
information on the Freedom League. Was it a genuine resistance 
organization, or merely a puppet tool of the Terrible Thinker?

	While Croft didn't directly know any people connected to the 
former Senator, he did know someone who was very likely to be a 
dissenter. Levi Esherkol. Levi was a scientist, perhaps the most 
brilliant in the Imperium (and the League before that). But Levi, like 
most intellectuals, was all squishy, liberal, and in favor of human 
rights. Levi tolerated the Standard Imperium, because of his personal 
connections to Steven Quick and War Admiral Norman North, but early on 
he made it clear he would have nothing to do with Emperor Karn's 
Imperium. (Did he know something that Croft didn't?) If there was some 
dissident movement, Levi would know about it. If Croft could find Levi; 
if Levi hadn't already gone into hiding.

	Croft did a search on the Imperial August database. After a while 
a name appeared; a "Professor Esherkol" was teaching a course on basic 
physics at Sarney U. Odd. While Levi occasionally taught from time to 
time, why would he teach such a low level course? Croft toggled 
further. There was a class in session right now.

	Croft and Banks headed over to the university. Banks asked the 
predictable question of where they were going and why; but Croft wasn't 
in a talking mood. He spotted no fewer than two agents following them 
on the way. Other Imperial Intelligence operatives? Preventive 
Security? Another of the Imperium's many spy agencies? Things could get 
crowded.

	When they got to the university Croft made his way to a certain 
classroom. He was very, very surprised by what he saw when he entered.

	He saw perfectly ordinary, perfectly bored looking students 
sitting in a classroom. And a dog, standing on a desk, teaching them.

	Not just any dog. This was a small fluffy animal, with beige fur 
and a pert nose, had spectacles on the end of his nose. 

	Croft recognized him immediately. This was Quick, the wonder dog, 
a genetically modified (type 212(b)) Pomeranian designed by Levi to 
have a genuis intelligence. But Croft was unaware that Quick had turned 
to a career of teaching.

	"Arf arf arf arf arf!" said the dog. A device in front of the dog 
spoke in a neutral tone: "And this is how the waves refract after 
bouncing off the surface."

	"Arf rufff!" said the dog.

	"Are there any questions?" said the translating device.

	One student raised his hand. 

	"Arf!"

	"Professor Quick, how do the particles of light actually bend 
when they go through water?"

	"Arf arf aaarf arf arf ruff ruff roah, arf arf rufffff!"

	"You foolish human, haven't you been reading your course 
materials? Reread them and then answer the question tomorrow yourself 
in class."

	"Arffff rough!"

	"Class is dismissed."

	The students started to file out of the class.

	Croft and Banks made their way to the front. Quick, instantly 
recognizing them, stuck out his pink tongue and gave a small smile.

	"Hey, I see you remember me," said Croft.

	"Rough arf arf arf arf!"

	"Of courseI do. Do you think I have dog food between my ears?"
	"That's some translation device," said Croft. "But when all 
you're capable of saying is "arf" and "ruff" and "roah", how does that 
translate into so many different words?"

	"Aaarf arf arf arf arf arf arf arf ruff roah!"

	"Silly human, there are over 120 different inflections of 'arf', 
although your primitive ears cannot distinguish them. They can also be 
used in different patterns," said the translation voice.

	"Well, that answers one question," said Croft.

	"Arf arf arf ruff!"

	"You're here to see Levi," said the translation device.

	"That's a good guess."
	"Aarrf roah arf arf!"

	"You never come to see me," Quick complained via translator.

	"The galaxy's been keeping me very busy lately," said Croft. "If 
I knew you were here I would have brought you a bone or something."

	"Arrf arrf roah!"

	"I would prefer a souffle," said the translator.

	"Ah, yeah," said Croft. "Listen, can you tell me where Levi is?"

	"Arf arf arf!"

	"Who's he?" 

	Croft turned to indicate Banks. "Him? He's my personal interior 
decorator. We just stopped off on the way home where he's going to tell 
me what kind of rugs to put on my walls."

	"Arf arf arf arf!"	

	"Your line of thinking is as warped as ever."

	"I love you too. Can you tell me where Levi is?" Croft asked.

	"Arf arf arf arf," said Quick.

	"I am not sure he wants to see you," said the translation device.

	"Why wouldn't he want to see me?" said Croft, with a glance 
towards Banks. "I'm so warm and lovable."

	"Arf arf roah!" 

	"Let me call him and ask," said the translation device.

	"Tell him it's important," Croft suggested.

	"Arf arf arf arf."

	"You always say that. Is there anything new you'd like me to tell 
him?" Quick asked, via translator.

	"Don't get sassy with me, little dog," said Croft.

	Quick stuck out his tongue and then touched a small contact on 
his collar. There was static and then a voice said, "Eh?"

	"Arf arf arf arf arf arf arf arf arf arf," said Quick.

	There was silence on the other end.

	Croft reached down to the level of the dog collar. Quick snarled. 
Croft pulled back, a bit, but raising his voice, said, "Levi, it's me, 
Croft. I need to speak to you."

	There was silence again.

	"Levi, remember me, Croft? We fought the Insects, Slurians, and a 
bunch of other bad guys together?"

	"Yes, I remember," said Levi, his voice sounding tinny though the 
tiny transmitter. "All right, Croft, I talk to you. Alone."

	Croft couldn't be happier. "Whatever you say, Levi."

	"Quick, arf arf arf arf ruff!" came Levi's voice.

	Croft raised an eyebrow. Now that was truly bizarre.

	"Arf!" said Quick, wagging his tail as he closed the contact. A 
paw swipe turned off the translation device.

	"Are you going to take us to Levi?"

	"Grrr!" said Quick, baring his little teeth.

	"I mean, me, take me to Levi."

	"Ruff!" said Quick, wagging his little tail again.

	"Do you need any help getting off the desk?" Croft asked.

	"Arf!" said Quick, leaping to a nearby chair, and then onto the 
floor.

	"You're a spry little thing, aren't you?" said Croft.

	"Arf!" said Quick, trotting to the door.

	Croft turned to Banks. "Well, I'm going to have to leave you 
behind on this one."
	"But I was ordered to accompany you everywhere!"

	"Well, you can spy on me later."

	"I'm not a spy," said Banks.

	"Then what are you doing working for Imperial Intelligence? 
Perhaps you'd be happier in another field, such as food preparation or 
android lubrication."

	Banks glared at him as Croft gave a merry wave.

	They hailed an aircab. Quick turned on the translation device to 
give the driver directions. If the driver thought there was anything 
strange about taking directions from a dog, he didn't say so.

	Croft looked at the little dog quizzically. Quick looked back at 
him with his big black eyes, twisting his head slightly.

	"Teaching?" said Croft.

	"Yes," said Quick through the translation device. "I am trying to 
raise the educational level of humanity."

	"Maybe if you work extra hard we'll all be as smart as dogs 
someday."

	"Your attempts at humor are as strained as always," said the 
translation device.

	"It's amazing how much nuance there can be in little arfs and 
ruffs," Croft said.

	They arrived at a tall building in downtown August. Quick 
indicated they should head for the top floor. They arrived at a 
penthouse apartment. Croft knew it was Levi's immediately because (a) 
it was very messy, (b) it was filled with scientific equipment, and (c) 
he could see Levi bending over a console.

	"Levi," said Croft, giving a warm and false smile.

	Levi looked over at Croft, but continued to turn a dial. "Eh," he 
said, not looking very friendly.

	"Levi, old buddy, old friend, how are you?" Croft asked.

	"Fine," said Levi.

	"How is Mindy?" Croft asked.

	"Fine," said Levi again.

	"And the dog, well, I can see for myself! A professor! You must 
be very proud."

	"Yeah," said Levi distantly.

	"Is something wrong, Levi?" said Croft.

	"No," said Levi, continuing to turn the knob.

	"I need your help, Levi," said Croft.

	"I no longer with Column," said Levi.

	"Actually, it's been called Imperial Intelligence for some 
decades now," said Croft. "And my request isn't related to them."

	"No?" Levi didn't look very believing at the moment.

	"Well, maybe it is, just a little bit," said Croft. "I'm not 
asking you to produce any weapons or devices for me. I just need a 
little information."

	"About what?" said Levi.

	"Senator Phil Beagan. Do you know where I can find him?" Croft 
asked.

	"Why would I know that?" said Levi. "I not know politicians."

	"Levi, I know you are a big supporter of human rights-"

	"I am loyal to Imperium," said Levi quickly. "Do not to try to 
implicate me."

	Croft held up his hands. "I wasn't trying to do anything. I know 
you're loyal. But I know you know a lot of people, and I'm simply 
looking for the Senator."

	"What for?"

	"I just want to talk with him, Levi. He may know something about 
a group called the Freedom League," said Croft.

	"Freedom League?"

	"Some sort of resistance group," said Croft. 

	"I know nothing about this. Nothing!" said Levi, still turning 
the knob.

	"I wasn't asking if you knew about the Freedom League," said 
Croft. "I'm just looking for the Senator."

	"Sorry, can't help," said Levi. Suddenly, a green light appeared 
on his console. He relaxed, stopped adjusting the knob, and smiled.

	"What was that about?" Croft asked.

	"Located broadcast frequency. Now jammed, at least for several 
minutes."

	"What jamming frequency?" Croft asked.

	"For listening devices in my apartment," said Levi.

	"You're being monitored?" Croft said.

	Levi gave Croft a cynical look.

	"By whom?"

	Levi pointed at Croft.

	"By me? I'm not spying on you, Levi," said Croft.

	"By Imperial Intelligence. Preventive Security. Maybe other 
agencies. All same thing," said Levi.

	"Why?" Croft asked.

	"I build things. Maybe they think I am potential threat."

	"Or maybe they think you have ties to the Freedom League."

	"I don't know anything about that," said Levi.

	"Yes, that's what you said when the others were listening," Croft 
noted. "You're a great scientist, Levi, but a lousy liar." 

	"Why should I tell you anything?" said Levi. "Would be same as 
telling Emperor Karn."

	Croft took a deep breath. "I've lately been coming to the 
conclusion that things aren't going well in the Imperium."

	"How so?'

	Croft told Levi about what he had discovered about Department 19. 
Levi glared at him. "Only now have you discovered this? For some time 
this has been going on."
	"You knew?" said Croft. "How? And why didn't you tell me?"

	"Thought it obvious you would know. You work for Imperial 
Security."

	"I've been working on busting arms smugglers and drug dealers for 
the past twenty years. I've been in a totally different division," said 
Croft.

	"Totally unaware of the repression, were you?"
	"I was aware of the censorship, of course," said Croft. "And I 
knew that Karn runs things with a far tighter grip than the War Admiral 
did. But simply killing people for disagreeing with the government? I 
wouldn't have worked for such a government for 20 years."

	"Like to believe you I would," said Levi. "And yet, your 
testimony helped put Karn in power."

	"My testimony?" said Croft, confused. "You mean, the plot I 
uncovered to assassinate the War Admiral? Yes, I discovered it, but I 
didn't advocate putting Karn in charge. He took power when the War 
Admiral was shot."

	"And yet I am told you were working for Karn during this time."
	"I was on assignment, yes," said Croft. "What are you getting 
at?"
	"It seems clear to everyone that you are loyal to him," said 
Levi.

	"I'm loyal to people, as long as they are loyal to ideals. I 
never thought Karn was the greatest guy, but I'm just starting to find 
out how really bad he is," said Croft.

	"So you say."

	Croft took a deep breath. He would have to reveal a secret which 
could get him in big trouble if Levi were caught and interrogated. But 
he had to earn Levi's trust, so he told him how he had saved Dalbo's 
life and helped him escape.

	Levi looked surprised. "That was you? We had heard that he had 
escaped, but did not know how."

	"We," Croft repeated triumphantly. "I want to meet them."

	Levi looked at Quick. "What think you?"
	Quick looked at Croft and twisted his head quizzically. 

	"Hold out hand," said Levi.

	Croft, looking puzzled, did so.

	Quick came over, and, standing on hind legs, tentatively sniffed 
and then licked Croft's hands. Then he took a few steps away and stuck 
out his tongue and smiled.

	"The taste test," said Croft. How insane could this be? "You're 
getting character advice from your dog?"
	"Quick has good instincts," said Levi.

	"Uh huh," said Croft. How could a man so smart in some ways be so 
naive in others?

	"I will guide you on next step," said Levi.

	"Thanks," said Croft.

	"But your path will get more dangerous the longer you play double 
game," said Levi. "If Imperium suspects you, you too will be sent to 
department 19."
	"It sounds dangerous," said Croft. "Too scary for me. I think 
you're better off giving this information to a professional, an 
infiltrator. Wait a minute! I'm an infiltrator! I do this for a living. 
What a relief!"

	"Is good to know that your sarcasm has not changed; if poor humor 
unchanged, probably Croft is unchanged as well."

	"Thanks for the vote of confidence," said Croft.

	Suddenly the light on Levi's console turned yellow. 

	"Nothing I can tell you," said Levi, typing rapidly on a datapad, 
and then handing it to Croft. "Go away now."

	"All right, Levi," said Croft, reading the datapad, before 
handing it back.



	The next day Agent Banks showed up at his desk. "What did you 
learn?"

	Croft shook his head. "Levi doesn't know anything about the 
Freedom League."

	"Then why did he want to meet with you privately?"

	"He's a recluse, he doesn't like meeting new people," said Croft, 
lying fluently.

	Banks stared at Croft. "Really?"

	"Double really," said Croft, typing rapidly at his terminal. 
"There, does that reassure you?"
	"What are you typing?" said Banks, changing the subject.

	"I did a little more searching on Senator Beagan. There's an 
office registered under his family's name that wasn't included in the 
information we received."	

	"Really? How did we miss that?"

	"I don't know," said Croft, who did know, since he entered the 
information in the database only the night before from an isolated 
terminal. "But let's go and check it out."

	When they got to the address, they found themselves in a fairly 
empty section of the warehouse district.

	"This doesn't look like an area with offices," said Banks.

	"I know," said Croft. "But this warehouse is the address. Let's 
check inside and see if we can't find out more."

	When they entered the warehouse they were immediately ambushed by 
men on either side of the door with blasters aimed at them. "Hold it!" 
they said.

	Croft and Banks froze. Two more men came forward and disarmed 
them. Blasters were pushed into their faces.

	"If this isn't a good time, we can come back later," said Croft.

	Blindfolds were put over their eyes and their hands were tied. 
They were taken to what seemed to be an aircar, and driven around for a 
while. Then they were led somewhere else on foot. Finally, after a long 
time, the blindfold was remove. Croft, blinking, found himself in a 
small, windowless room facing former Senator Phil Beagan.

	"If this is how you treat all your constituents, it's a small 
wonder you're not in office anymore," said Croft, indicating his bound 
hands.

	Beagan smiled. "Elected offices have been outlawed under the 
Imperium. All positions are filled by the ranks of the NGB now."

	"There is no NGB," said Croft. "That went out with the Slurian 
Union."

	"But we're ruled by the same people. The form of government that 
we currently enjoy is almost identical. Only the names are different," 
said Beagan.

	"We haven't talked in a while," said Croft, trying to change the 
subject. "How have you been, Senator?"
	"Fine, despite the Imperium's best attempts," said Beagan.

	"Best attempts to do what?"

	"Don't tell me you didn't know they've been trying to kill me for 
two years."
	"I didn't know they've been trying to kill you for two years," 
Croft blinked. "Sorry, you told me not to tell you that. But I really 
didn't know."

	"The increase in repression started gradually, but has really 
been picking up the pace over the past few years," said Beagan. "Is it 
really possible that you're not in on it?"

	Croft looked thoughtful, and nodded affirmatively.

	"I'd like to believe that, and yet you were an instrumental part 
of the fraud which put Karn into power."

	"Fraud?" said Croft.

	"Don't tell me you really believe that Roger Dulin, the War 
Admiral's most trusted aide and heir apparent, plotted to assassinate 
the war Admiral," said Beagan.

	"I did have my doubts," said Croft. "At least, until I was held 
in the office of his top aide, Colonel Miller, and Admiral Dulin 
himself admitted his role in a holoconversation I had with him."

	"Identities, as well as personalities, can be faked," said 
Beagan. "You of all people should know that."

	"I know they can be faked," said Croft. "But I didn't exactly 
have time to conduct a thorough investigation. Admiral Dulin was killed 
before I could do any fact checking."

	"So you're saying you were just reporting what happened," said 
Beagan. "That you, the great Clifford Croft, was simply used by Emperor 
Karn."

	"Well, yes, I am great," said Croft. "But I object to the term 
used."

	"The alternative is that you were in on it with Karn from the 
beginning."
	"Yes, I was used by Karn, that was it," said Croft. He grimaced. 
"Look, it occurred to me early and often that Karn might have set up 
the situation to get Admiral Dulin out of the way and stage a coup. But 
I saw what I saw with my own eyes. Admiral Dulin admitted his guilt. 
Without concrete proof that what I saw was really, I don't know who to 
believe was the culprit."

	Beagan looked at Croft, as if he were trying to fathom his 
innocence or guilt. "It is well established in the record that you 
spoke to Admiral Dulin at," and he named a date and time, "by 
holotransmission, correct?"
	Croft nodded.

	"And yet during that time Admiral Dulin was in a meeting with 
civil administrators. He couldn't possibly have been speaking to you 
privately."
	"Can you verify this?" Croft asked.

	"I have spoken to several of Admiral Dulin's administrators who 
were in the meeting with him. Their schedules all indicate they were 
there."

	"So if Admiral Dulin was in a meeting when I spoke to him..."

	"Then you spoke to an imposter," said Beagan.

	"Which makes it likely that this was all engineered by Karn," 
said Croft.

	"Merely likely?" said Beagan.

	"After what I've seen, after how I was apparently fooled, I need 
concrete evidence before I come to conclusions again," said Croft 
defiantly. "But either way, that's not relevant."

	"How so?"

	"Whether Karn had the War Admiral shot is a matter of merely 
personal interest right now. Karn has to go for independent reasons. 
He's having large number of people killed simply for thinking disloyal 
thoughts."
	"Yes, I heard how you apparently rescued the telepath," said 
Beagan.

	"It was quite an apparent rescue. I guess news travels quickly," 
said Croft.

	"But how do I know that the incident wasn't staged? Perhaps your 
entire purpose was to locate me," said Beagan.

	"At some point you have to decide who to trust," said Croft, 
staring defiantly at him.

	"Indeed," said Senator Beagan. "If you were to turn the telepath 
over to us, that would be a gesture of good faith. He could tell us 
about your thoughts, and whether you are genuine in what you say."
	"Well, you see, I've got a problem of my own there," said Croft. 
"I've been told that you're secretly working for the Terrible Thinker. 
I don't think I want to turn Dalbo over to him."

	"The Terrible Thinker?" said Beagan. "What gives you the 
impression that he's even alive?"

	"His kind don't die very easily," said Croft. "And no body was 
even found."
	"So that's how they've turned you against us."

	"Hm?"
	"If you thought we were a genuine democracy movement, you might 
have qualms about hunting us down. But if you were told we were tools 
of the Terrible Thinker, then, well, you would be properly motivated."

	"A great theory," said Croft. "The problem is, I don't know if 
it's correct. You probably have never even met the guy you're working 
for."

	"That would be incorrect," said Beagan. "I have met him, and I 
can tell you for a fact, he isn't the Terrible Thinker."

	"You've met him?" said Croft. This was unexpected. "How do you 
know that whoever you think you've met is really the leader behind this 
whole movement? He could be a figurehead for the Terrible Thinker."
	"Croft, I was a politician for several hundred years. I can spot 
a leader. Besides, I know." He seemed certain.

	Croft looked at him oddly. Beagan obviously knew more than he was 
telling. But he seemed certain.

	So at this point, did Croft trust Beagan? How else would Croft 
get Beagan to trust him? The trust had to begin somewhere.

	"All right," said Croft. "We have to move Dalbo somewhere, he's 
bound to be discovered soon. Give me a location and I'll have him 
delivered to you."

	"Give us his location and we'll pick him up," said Beagan.

	Croft thought again, and nodded. "I'll relay a message to you 
after I'm safely out of here."

	"A reasonable precaution," said Beagan. "I'll provide you with 
data coordinates." He changed the subject. "What about your partner? 
Can he be trusted as well?"
	"Only to report my every move to my bosses."

	"That's what we thought," said Beagan approvingly. "Your stock is 
rising, Croft. If you're curious, he's been interrogated in another 
room. Not very roughly. You'll be put in the same room with him, and 
means will be provided for you to escape. You might report a similar 
story to his--questions about who you are, why you're pursuing me, and 
so forth."

	"Well thought out," said Croft.

	"So, what will you do next?"

	"My mission is to ferret out the Freedom League," said Croft. 
"But I thought, while I was ineffectually doing that, I might help 
cause a little trouble for the Imperium."

	"I have some ideas on that subject, if you'd like to hear them."
	"I would," said Croft.

	They spoke for several more minutes. Finally, when they were 
done, Beagan called his men in and they prepared to blindfold him 
again.

	"Senator, one more thing," said Croft, before the blindfold came 
down on his eyes.

	"Yes?" said Beagan

	"If you're lying, and anything happens to Dalbo, you know I'm 
going to have to find you and kill you."

	Beagan smiled appreciatively, and gestured for the blindfold to 
be lowered. "I don't think we were wrong about you, Croft."

	Croft, wondering exactly who the "we" were, was blindfolded and 
taken to another room. He was sat down in a chair, his bonds were 
released, and then the men left.

	"Who, who's there?" Croft heard Banks say.

	Croft casually took off his blindfold. He saw Banks, blindfolded, 
sitting besides him. 

	"It's Croft," said Croft.

	"Croft! Did they torture you too?" said Banks.
	"No, just an interrogation," said Croft. "How did they torture 
you?"

	"They yelled questions at me!"

	"That sounds really rough," said Croft. "We'll have to have a 
medical team look you over when we get out of this."

	"Croft, this isn't a time for humor," said Banks. "How are we 
going to escape? These ropes are primitive but they are tight!"

	"I'm working on it," said Croft, picking up a sharp piece of 
plastic off the floor. He held one of the ropes that had formerly tied 
his hands taut, and started to saw through it.

	"How?"

	"I managed to grab something sharp. I'm cutting through my 
bonds."

	"Hurry!" said Banks.

	"Yes, we have to get you out of here before you bleed to death 
from your wounds," said Croft.

	"I'm bleeding?" said Banks, sounding anxious.

	Croft sighed, and continued cutting with the plastic's sharp 
edge. The rope was giving away too quickly. Croft stopped cutting. He 
needed to give Beagan's men enough time to leave.

	"Croft?"
	"I'm working as fast as I can," said Croft, staring at the 
ceiling tiles. Exactly what did Dalbo see in those? A few minutes 
later, he started cutting again.

	Finally, when he figured enough time had elapsed, he freed Banks.

	Banks looked around. "Great! But we're unarmed, how are we going 
to get out of here?"

	"We're trained infiltrators," Croft reminded him. "Well, at least 
one of us is."

	"This is no time for snideness," said Banks.

	"You just have to make the time," Croft corrected him. He peered 
out of the door, then he opened it wide.

	"Croft!" Banks hissed.

	"They're gone," said Croft.

	They left what turned out to be another abandoned warehouse, and 
casually made their way to the street. 



	General Magnuson was disturbed to learn they had been taken 
captive, however briefly. "Was Beagan behind it?" he asked.

	Croft shrugged. "Our interrogators never identified themselves."
	"Still, this is very serious. It sounds like a setup," said 
Magnuson. "I think it's possible you might be under surveillance by the 
enemy."

	"That's exactly my thought, sir," said Croft, giving Banks a 
knowing look.

	"Keep investigating," said Magnuson. "I want these subversives 
found!"

	"Yes sir," said Croft.

	That evening Croft eluded two agents following him. Evidently 
Banks was not sufficient; either Imperial Intelligence or Preventive 
Security were having him followed, full time. But Croft only thought he 
had eluded all of his pursuers. In reality Special Agent Juliet Branch 
of the Preventive Security Service was still following. 

	Croft went to a public data terminal after disabling the security 
surveillance around it. He typed in a series of codes, transmitting a 
certain amount of data, then he waited. A moment later, a flood of data 
returned. Croft, surprised, downloaded it to his datapad. He would look 
at it later. He erased the information from the terminal and then 
headed off.

	Croft looked around, to make sure he still wasn't being followed. 
He saw no one. He started off towards Dalbo's hiding place.

	Special Agent Juliet Branch stepped out of the shadows, and 
followed him.

	When Croft arrived in Dalbo's apartment Dalbo didn't even look 
up. Dalbo was counting a series of multicolored marbles.

	"I see Preston has been by," said Croft.

	"Yes," said Dalbo, busy with the counting.

	"I have some news for you," said Croft. "We need to move you to a 
safer location."

	"But I just moved here," said Dalbo.

	"I'm sorry, but I can't keep you resupplied on a regular basis," 
said Croft. "They're watching me too closely."
	"Watching you? Why?" Dalbo asked, not really interested.

	"I don't know, it might have something to do with your 
disappearance," said Croft.

	"So you are handing me over to Senator Beagan," said Dalbo.

	"Has anyone told you that it's not polite to read someone's mind 
without permission?" Croft asked.

	"You had me do it all the time," Dalbo sniffed.

	Croft refused to have himself drawn into a discussions of the 
subtleties of that argument. "Strangers will be coming in a few hours, 
so be ready; pack up your toothpicks, and don't lose your marbles."

	Dalbo nodded. 

	Croft turned to go.

	"Croft?"

	"Yes?" Was Dalbo going to thank him? That would be very 
uncharacteristic; but then, these were trying times.

	"Next time, can you get me real wooden toothpicks? I don't like 
the plastic ones."

	Croft rolled his eyes and left. He wondered if Senator Beagan's 
people would be driven crazy by Dalbo's insane demands.

	As Croft entered the corridor, he thought he saw a shape moving 
down the dark hallway. He stared for a moment, but saw nothing else. He 
moved in that direction; when he got there, he saw nothing.

	Preventive Security Special Agent Juliet Branch stepped out of a 
side corridor and stared after him. She had some important thinking to 
do....





Chapter 4: Union Support



	"What are we doing on Pacifica?" Banks asked.

	They had taken a commercial flight to the planet Pacifica, one of 
the more industrialized planets in the Imperium. 

	"We're investigating some of the labor unions," said Croft 
crisply. "I've done some digging. There have been a series of wildcat 
strikes in the past few months, often in key industries. I'm guessing 
that they may have been sponsored by the Freedom League."

	"Really?" Banks asked.

	"Maybe," said Croft. "We'll investigate and see."

	When their flight landed, they breezed through customs--as 
agents, they didn't have their luggage searched, which was a good thing 
for Croft. They exited the main building and hailed an aircab. As they 
entered, Croft told the driver he wanted to go to the city center.

	The driver didn't move. "Are you waiting for something?" Croft 
asked.

	Suddenly the door on the other side of the cab opened and a man 
entered the cab, sitting down in the back next to Croft and Banks.

	"I'm sorry, but I don't think they accept shared rides," Croft 
told the stranger.

	Colonel T'Kaya Latr of the Preventive Security Service grinned. 
Of course, Croft had immediately recognized him. "So good to see you 
again, Agent Croft."

	"Should we really be so forward with the A word in front of..." 
Croft indicated the driver with his eyes.

	"Relax," said Latr, readjusting his eyepatch slightly. "He is one 
of us."

	"Really?" said Croft. "But who exactly are we?"

	"It is odd, being on the same side, after all this time, isn't 
it?" said Latr. "Old habits and thought patterns die hard, don't they?"

	"You're with Preventive Security," said Croft.

	"Try not to act surprised," said Latr. 

	"What are you doing here?" Croft asked.

	"We're here to provide assistance," said the Colonel.
	"By all means," said Croft. "First, our hotel. Then I'd like an 
elaborate five course dinner. If one of your operatives is preparing 
it, we'll also need a food taster."

	Latr laughed. "You haven't lost that keen wit of yours, I see."
	"What do you want, Latr?" said Croft, getting tired of this game.

	"Just to assist," said Latr. "We are every bit as intent on 
finding those Freedom League scum as you are." He stared at Croft. "And 
all their sympathizers as well."

	"Good luck," said Croft. He gestured for Banks to get out of the 
aircar.

	"Where are you going?" said Latr.

	"We're looking for another ride where there's a little less 
inflight entertainment and a little more horizontal movement," said 
Croft. 

	Latr gestured to the driver and the cab left.

	"We should work with him," said Banks.

	"I think some of us already are," said Croft.

	"You keep acting like I'm the enemy, but I think when push comes 
to shove, you're going to be surprised," said Banks.

	"Very surprised," said Croft, getting into another aircar.



	They had arrived in the late afternoon. They discussed their 
plans over dinner. "Tomorrow we meet with the head of the Service 
Laboror's Union," said Croft.

	"What is that?" Banks asked.

	"A union that's had more than its fair share of strikes lately," 
said Croft. 

	"How did you get an appointment to see him?" Banks wanted to 
know.
	"I didn't," said Croft. "I prefer surprising him."

	"You're going to break in?"
	"I prefer to say that I will make a creative entrance," said 
Croft.

	"I hope you know what you're doing," said Banks.

	"At least I know what you're doing," said Croft.

	"How many different ways can you find to say that I'm spying on 
you?"

	"So far? About... 40 to 50," said Croft. "But give me time, I'm 
only just begun."



	The next morning Croft got up extra early to make some 
preparations. He went through their luggage and took out a round 
object. Croft then opened his door and walked three steps to Bank's 
door. He picked the amateur lock silently and efficiently in under five 
seconds. Then he opened a door. Gently, so not to wake Banks up, he 
rolled a grenade in the room. He closed the door. There was no sound of 
explosion.

	Croft counted to ten and then opened the door again. It was a gas 
grenade so naturally there was no explosion. The room was filled with 
thinning gas but Croft was prepared, of course, wearing nose filters. 
Croft retrieved the grenade and left the way he came; for good measure 
he relocked the door, from the outside.

	Croft went back to his room and got some items he would need, 
including a holomask. He had brought it with him from August but had 
made some special modifications last night. When he put it on he looked 
like someone else. Someone Croft knew. Croft couldn't resist smiling. 
The holomask, with its proper programming, showed a smile as well.

	Across the street from the hotel, Special Agent Juliet Branch 
watched the turn of events with a sniperscope, and with very raised 
eyebrows.

	Once he was ready, Croft went to the offices of the Galactic 
Union of Concerned Workers. That's right. Not the Service Laborer's 
Union, as he had told Banks. The GUCW was the umbrella organization for 
nearly all unions in the galaxy, thousands of them--in short, the GUCW 
was the largest union organization in the galaxy.. That was the real 
reason he had come to Pacifica. The Service Laborer's Union 
investigation was just a cover story.

	The GUCW was housed in the largest building on Pacifica, 
naturally. The Union was very powerful, funded by billions of dues 
paying members, and millions of corporations who also made payments of 
various kinds. The GUCW did very well for itself. So did the current 
president, Engels Marks. He was a very stern man who others made sure 
not to anger. So the last thing he expected when he went into his 
palatial office that morning was to see another man sitting behind his 
desk.

	"Get out from there! I'm going to call security!" Marks roared. 
He headed to a comm panel on the wall.

	"Wouldn't do that," said Croft, reclining in Marks' chair with 
his feet on his grand desk.

	"Why not," said Marks, his fingers inches from the panic button.

	"Because I'd shoot you," said Croft, pointing a blaster at him. 
"There are other reasons, but that will do for starters."

	"Who are you?" said Marks, looking at Croft.

	"You can call me Colonel," said Croft. "My name is Colonel T'Kaya 
Latr. Preventive Security Service."

	Croft even had the voice down. He had a special voice 
synthesizer, and had dug up a sample of Latr's voice for the occasion, 
just in case Marks office was wired for sound and video.

	"Preventive Security," said Marks, suddenly looking pale.  
Suddenly his tone became more conciliatory. "We've always had a good 
relationship with the security services. If there's some problem I'm 
not aware of-"

	"There is," said Croft. "There have been a number of strikes by 
unions under your umbrella. There has been some concern as to whether 
these have been attempts at economic sabotage."

	"Economic sabotage? Never!" said Marks. "I admit there have been 
a few isolated strikes, but nothing like you say...."

	"Well, what's important is what the Imperium thinks," said Croft. 
"And they're seriously considering outlawing the union."

	"Which union?"

	Croft leaned forward. "All unions."
	"That... there would be anarchy! Civil unrest! Chaos!" said 
Marks.
	"After the first few rounds of executions we think the unrest 
would die down," said Croft.

	"Ex... executions?"

	"Of senior union leaders." Croft waggled his eyebrows. "You can 
guess who would be first."

	"But... but... I am loyal to the Imperium!"

	"They don't care," said Croft. He projected a holographic image 
of a memo. "Look at this one. And this one, and this one," he said, 
flipping through several of them. "You can take your time and read them 
later, I've downloaded them into your computer."
	"What are they?"
	"Step by step plans to outlaw all unions in the next two years. 
The Imperium has planted provocateurs in your organization who will 
start strikes and give them a pretext to move against you."

	"So this isn't about loyalty?"

	Croft nodded. "It's about control. Regardless of what you do or 
don't do, you're going to get hammered."
	"Why are you telling me this?" Marks asked.

	"There are some of us who don't like this trend," said Croft. 

	"Really?"

	"But we're not in a position to change policy at the moment," 
said Croft.

	"What turn of events would put you in that position?" Marks 
asked.

	"External pressure," said Croft. "Strikes, civil disobedience, 
corporate disloyalty, that sort of thing. You'll be seeing a lot more 
of that over the next few months."

	"You're going to be making your own move against the Imperium."
	"I never said that," said Croft. "And I have a jammer in place, 
don't even think of trying to record this and blackmail me."

	"So you want me to help you in your bid to overthrow the 
Emperor."
	"No," said Croft. "Feel free to sit on the sidelines and do 
nothing. But check these memos I'm leaving you--they detail very 
clearly what's going to happen to you in the next two years. You can 
personally probably survive another six months by keeping your head 
down."

	"But if I foment strikes I won't last six days," said Marks.

	"Do it smart," said Croft. "Have others outside of your control 
foment the strikes. Eventually the Imperium may catch on, but not 
immediately. When that happens, you take your organization underground. 
Keep the pressure up with strikes, and, in combination with some other 
things we're planning, there will be a new change of management within 
a year."

	"It sound dangerous," said Marks.

	"Then do nothing," said Croft, shrugging as he got up and head to 
the door. "But don't say I didn't warn you." Croft suddenly thought 
about what he was saying.  "Actually, on second thought, I prefer if 
you didn't tell your interrogators that I warned you at all."

	He walked out the door, leaving a speechless union leader behind 
him.

	Croft felt reasonably confident that Marks would take action. The 
internal memos he had provided Marks with were forged, of course, but 
each had a ring of truth to them. Each memo described repressive 
techniques the Imperium had already put into place to limit the rights 
of unions to organize and protest. Croft wrote up those procedures and 
then added the bit about liquidating the union leadership as if it were 
one continuous policy that was slowly being carried out over time.

	Actually, though, Croft's fraudulent documents might not be far 
from the truth--the Imperium had been tightening the noose on the 
unions during the past few years. For all he knew his little creative 
writing exercise might be closer to the truth than he thought.

	The important thing is that when individual member unions of the 
GUCW started to strike, their actions wouldn't be connected to him. 
After all, Croft hadn't come here to meet with the GUCW; he had come to 
speak to a smaller, individual union, the Service Workers Union, and 
according to the reports undoubtedly provided by Banks, he would have 
had no contact with the GUCW.

	Speaking of Banks... Croft returned to the hotel. He knocked on 
Banks' door once. Then again, louder. Banks, looking sleepy, came to 
the door. "What is it?"

	"Are you finally awake?"
	"What time is it?" Banks checked his chrono to answer his own 
question. "It's the mid-afternoon? What happened?"

	"I tried to wake you this morning but you weren't answering. I 
figured I would let you sleep late."

	"What?" said Banks. "There's no way I could have slept this 
long."

	"It is the mid-afternoon," said Croft. "I had to get some work 
done."

	"The Chief is going to kill me. He insisted I travel with you 
everywhere."

	"Well, the Chief doesn't have to know about this, unless you tell 
him," said Croft.

	"I suppose," said Banks. "What happened?"

	"I intimidated the head of the Service Worker's Union. After a 
few idle threats, he coughed up the names of a few troublemakers."

	"Really? We'll have them brought in for interrogation!"
	"That's just what I was thinking," said Croft, giving a small 
smile.

	By the time they returned to August, the people Croft had named 
had been arrested. But there was a problem with their interrogation.

	"Every one of these names you provided are Preventive Security 
agents!" thundered General Magnuson.

	"Really?" said Croft innocently. "I had no idea that PSS had 
infiltrated the unions."

	"They have," said Magnuson. "Though how the union boss you 
interviewed knew exactly who our PSS agents were has me concerned."
	"I'm sorry," said Croft. "I thought I had him thoroughly 
intimidated. If I had known there were Preventive Security agents in 
the Services Union, if I had known who they were, I wouldn't have 
fallen for this deception."

	"There was no way you could have known," said Magnuson. "Your 
instincts were right, however, that the unions need to have a closer 
eye kept on them. Since you returned from Pacifica, four large unions 
have gone out on strike in the key industries of manufacturing and 
spaceport maintenance."

	"Really?" said Croft.

	"Yes," said Magnuson. "It's unclear if they have any Freedom 
League connection or not, but if they do we'll get to the bottom of 
it."

	"I think there may be," said Croft. "And it may not be limited to 
unions."

	"What do you mean?" Magnuson asked.

	"I wonder if some corporations aren't in bed with the Freedom 
League. They must be getting their funding from somewhere."

	"That's true," said Magnuson.

	"Let me look into it," said Croft.

	"A good idea," said Magnuson. He nodded, dismissing them.

	When Croft returned to his apartment that night, he entered and 
turned on a light. He saw a woman sitting in one of his chairs. She had 
a blaster aimed at him.

	"Pardon me," said Croft. "Am I in the wrong apartment?"

	"Lose the blaster and sit down, very slowly, Croft," she said.

	Croft frowned. Not at the request, but the person. She looked 
familiar, somehow.

	He carefully took out his blaster and lowered it to the ground.

	"Have a seat," She said. "We can talk in private; I've disabled 
the listening devices in your apartment."

	That was an encouraging sign. She wanted to talk. Croft sat down, 
peering at her.

	"I'm hurt," she said. "You don't remember me, do you?"

	Suddenly, Croft knew where he had seen her before. "Julie Tree," 
he said, snapping his fingers.

	"Branch, actually," said Juliet Branch.

	"Julie Branch," said Croft. "It's been a long time."

	"Actually, it's Juliet now," said Branch.

	"That's not the only thing that's changed, apparently," said 
Croft. "The last time I saw you, you were a crewmember on a merchant 
ship. And now you're...." he hoped she would finish the sentence.

	"Captain. Preventive Security Service," she smiled.

	"That's a rather sharp change in profession," said Croft. "I'm 
curious how it came about."
	"I can't imagine you're stalling for time," said Branch. "As you 
know your friend Preston is on Karis and can't help you. Since we have 
the time, I will satisfy your curiosity."

	Many years earlier, Croft, Branch, and an entire crew of a 
merchant vessel had been stranded on an abandoned Monumental ship for 
several days. 	Their own ship had been damaged in battle and their 
ship, a merchant vessel carrying important military technology for use 
in the Second Slurian War, had docked with the Monumental ship, looking 
for spare parts to fix their ship. The Monumental ship was filled with 
tremendous technology beyond their understanding--and a hideous monster 
of shadow and gas beyond their ability to kill. One by one the creature 
had killed their crew, until only Croft and Branch were left. They had 
barely escaped with their lives.

	Branch said, "After our... encounter, I spent a not 
inconsiderable time recovering. When I did, I enrolled in the 
governmental investigative service on New Finland.  Mostly I was 
investigating waste and fraud."

	"That's still quite a jump from Preventive Security. When did you 
start working for the Slurians?" Croft casually asked.
	"After Emperor Karn took over, a number of us were shifted over 
to Preventive Security," said Branch.

	"Shifted over?"
	"We weren't exactly given much choice," said Branch.
	"Why would people be forced to join Preventive Security?" Croft 
asked.

	"Preventive Security was top-heavy with Slurians. They wanted 
non-Slurian operatives who could blend in more easily on former League 
planets," said Branch. "Though I hadn't exactly been a spy before, they 
found my experience compatible."

	"I see," said Croft. "So would you characterize it as a good 
career move?"

	"Is that what you really want to talk about?" said Branch.

	"Well, I'm also curious to know what you're doing in my apartment 
with a blaster pointed at me," said Croft. "But if you're in no hurry 
to shoot me, I figured there was no need to rush the point."

	"Oh, Croft, you haven't changed," she grinned. "Except that 
you've been getting sloppy."
	"Sloppy?" Croft said.

	"I saw you visit your friend Dalbo after you stole him away from 
the other Specials," said Branch.

	"You saw me?" said Croft. "If you did, then why-"

	"Didn't I turn the both of you in? I wanted to gather more 
information, to see who else you were involved with," said Branch. "And 
it's been worth it. You've been dressing up as Colonel Latr and making 
some very secret visits to the Galactic Union of Concerned Workers."

	"Oh, you saw that too?" said Croft.

	"I thought you're a master spy. How did you let yourself be 
tailed so easily?"

	"You have to understand I probably have a lot of agents following 
me," said Croft.

	"That you do, at least three different contingents from 
Preventive Security that I've observed," said Branch. "So far they 
haven't caught on, but it's just a matter of time."

	"So you're here to warn me, not to turn me in," said Croft 
brightly.

	"Not quite," said Branch. "I hadn't exactly decided what to do 
with you. You see, when they assigned me to you, they must have known 
that we knew each other. If so, they are watching and testing my 
loyalty. If I don't turn you in now, I'll probably be liquidated."

	"Ah. I think I spot a flaw in your logic," said Croft. "You think 
this is a loyalty test for you because you think they already know of 
our past history."

	"Yes," said Branch.

	"But how would they know of our past history?" Croft said. "Did 
you file a report on what happened?"

	"No," said Branch. "It was too traumatic."

	"I never filed one either," said Croft.

	"You never did?" said Branch. 

	"No," said Croft. "Too traumatic."

	"But you were an operative. You had to make a report," said 
Branch.

	"I reported that the advanced cargo was lost as was the crew of 
the merchant ship," said Croft. "I didn't see the need to get into 
details. I had more than my share of nightmares for some time to come."

	"So... they don't know," said Branch.

	Croft thought rapidly. The only ones who knew what had happened 
on the Monumental ship were the Meddler Capybara, now dead, and James 
Starr, the noted explorer. And James was very unlikely to be working 
with the Imperium.

	Croft shook his head.

	Branch visibly relaxed. "So it's not a loyalty test."

	"No, it's just random chance you were assigned to me," said 
Croft. "Random chance does happen, from time to time."
	Branch's features hardened again. "But sooner or later you're 
going to be caught, and when you are, they're going to wonder why I 
didn't catch you."
	"Nonsense!" said Croft. "First of all, how often have I been 
caught?"

	"According to your record, from time to time."
	"But I always escape."

	"That won't help me."

	"If they blame you, won't they also have to blame all the other 
teams following me? Do you think they will accuse all the other teams 
of being disloyal as well?"

	"You don't know Preventive Security," said Branch, with a 
shudder.

	"I know Colonel Latr," said Croft.

	"Why were you impersonating him?" said Branch curiously.

	"An insurance policy," said Croft. "I think the Imperium is going 
to have a lot more to worry about than you in a few weeks. I wouldn't 
worry about it."

	"I don't know...."
	"Then there's the small matter of my having saved your life," 
said Croft.

	"That was more than a century ago. What have you done for me 
lately?" Branch asked.

	"It would have been a particularly nasty, gruesome death, if you 
remember what happened to your shipmates," said Croft.

	Branch visibly shuddered.

	"As to what I've done for you otherwise, I've helped bring about 
the downfall of the Slurian Union, I've repelled an Insect invasion, 
and now I'm working to get rid of those Preventive Security types, 
permanently."

	Croft could almost see the wheels turning in Branch's head. Then 
something clicked and she lowered her weapon. 

	"A good decision," said Croft.

	Branch got up and headed for the door. "Be careful, Croft. You're 
being watched very closely. They don't trust you."

	"I know," said Croft. "I find that personally hurtful, but I'm 
learning to cope."




Chapter 5: A Corporate Resolution



	A few weeks later, Agents Croft and Banks were on their way to 
New Finland; not because it was the former home of Special Agent Banks, 
but because it was the galactic headquarters for the Claritan 
Corporation. 

	The Claritan Corporation was the largest multiplanetary 
corporation in the galaxy. It used its economic muscle to make sure it 
stayed that way--through much of the lifespan of the League, through 
the rebuilding after the Insect invasion, during the Standard Imperium, 
and now during Karn's Imperium. The Claritan Corporation did a little 
(or a lot) of nearly everything: manufacturing, pharmaceuticals, 
spaceship construction, transportation, robotics, management, banking, 
and more.

	The ostensible purpose of the trip was to spy on the Claritan 
Corporation; Croft's real purpose was to turn the Claritan Corporation 
against the Imperium, using similar methods he had used with the GUWC. 

	But before he had left August again he had a secret meeting with 
Senator Beagan. It was perhaps a measure of Beagan's growing trust in 
him that he allowed Croft to come to him without a blindfold.

	"We've spoken with Dalbo about you; he confirms you're on our 
side," said Beagan.

	"What a relief," said Croft. His expression hardened. "I'd like 
to speak with him, to confirm you're on mine."
	Beagan nodded. He pressed a button, and the holographic image of 
Dalbo appeared. Croft was careful to watch for any signs of deceptions; 
holographic broadcasts could be forged.

	Dalbo was distracted, looking at his hand.

	"Fascinating, isn't it?"

	"Yes," said Dalbo. He moved his fingers in different directions. 
"All the angles... so different, so very different."

	"How are they treating you, Dalbo?" Croft asked.
	"Oh, I don't know," said Dalbo.

	"Hardly a ringing endorsement."

	"They don't let me go outside much. I get very little reaction to 
external stimuli. Are you coming soon?"
	"Why?"

	"I could use some more marbles."

	He certainly could. Yes, this was the real Dalbo. Croft said, 
"I'm not sure when I'll be able to visit. But you be good and stay 
safe."

	Dalbo, studying his hand, didn't even bother to nod. The 
transmission ended.

	"I trust this means you won't have to carry out on your threat to 
kill me," said Beagan.

	"You speak in the language of politicians," said Croft. "I speak 
in the language of my profession."

	"I've seen operatives be more diplomatic," said Beagan.

	"And less successful," said Croft.

	"You have been somewhat successful," said Beagan. "I was 
impressed by how you handled your encounter with the Galactic Union of 
Concerned Workers."

	"I'm off to the Claritan Corporation next," said Croft. "In the 
meantime, why don't you make good use of Dalbo?"

	"How do you mean?"
	"The Imperium was using him to find disloyal officials. Why don't 
you do the same?" said Croft. 

	"Find out who's disloyal and get them to join the League?"

	"Exactly my thoughts," said Croft. "Focus on the military. That's 
likeliest to be most important, when we get to crunch time."

	"I agree," said Beagan. He passed over a box.

	"From Levi?" said Croft.

	"Just what you asked for."

	"Good," said Croft.

	"Good luck," said Beagan.

	"Good skill," Croft corrected him.



	When Banks and Croft arrived on New Finland they dropped their 
bags at a hotel and immediately went to work. As New Finland was the 
main headquarters for the Claritan Corporation, the company had a 
number of properties on the planet. But its largest was the Claritan 
building, 240 stories tall and half a block on each dimension. 

	The executive floor was floor number 200. Croft's plan was to bug 
the most important rooms in the building. But they wouldn't know which 
those were until they observed activity on the floor. So Croft 
suggested they watch from rooms in nearby buildings.

	"How do we get into rooms in other buildings?" Banks asked.

	"We're infiltrators, remember?" said Croft. "But if you're not up 
for it..."
	"I can do it," said Banks.

	"Good," said Croft. "Because each of us should be watching from 
different buildings."
	"Why?"

	"The Claritan building is big; there is no way the two of us can 
watch the entire building from one vantage point."

	"I'm supposed to stay with you," said Banks.

	"I didn't see you in my room when I woke up this morning," said 
Croft.

	"That's different," said Banks.

	"So your rules have some latitude, such as common sense, do 
they?" said Croft. "What do you think the Chief would say if I asked 
you to split up on this part of the assignment and you refused?" He let 
the question hang in the air.

	"All right," said Banks. "But we have to keep constant contact by 
comm."

	"Of course," said Croft, giving a small smile. He had been 
expecting Banks to try and keep tabs with him that way.

	He and Banks each infiltrated a room in nearby buildings. The 
buildings were occupied, of course, but Croft had no trouble breaking 
in and finding a room facing the Claritan building that was temporarily 
empty. The room even had a clear view of the 200th floor, not that it 
really mattered. Croft didn't plan to stay there very long.

	"Croft, are you there?" came Banks over his comm.

	Croft had to smile. Right on time. "I'm here."
	"I'm looking through the Claritan building with 
electrobinoculars. I think the busiest rooms are-"

	"Whoa, you've been there for 30 seconds and you can tell me which 
rooms are the busiest?" said Croft. "We have to give this at least two 
hours."
	"But-"
	"No buts," said Croft. He reached into his pocket and activated 
the device Levi gave him.

	"All right," said Banks, sounding dejected.

	"Don't complain," said the device, in a perfect replica of 
Croft's voice.

	Croft just stood there in the room for several minutes to be sure 
the device was working.

	"Croft, I see some people coming into the main conference room!" 
came Bank's voice.

	"Good for you," said the device, in Croft's voice.

	"Any progress on your end?"

	"What you'd imagine," said the device.

	"What would I imagine?"

	"Stop asking silly questions," said the device.

	Croft smiled. It really was a work of genius. The machine 
analyzed Bank's tone of voice and gave a response, in Croft's voice, 
that was vaguely appropriate. It had also been programmed to mimic 
Croft's personality.  The machine didn't understand what Banks was 
saying, only the tone. But it seemed to be working fine. If only the 
device could work with Banks full time.

	Croft put on his holomask, adjusted his voice translator, and 
immediately became Colonel Latr. He also turned his jacket inside out 
and it immediately became another style and fashion. He tapped his 
pants and they changed color as well.

	Croft existed the building, only too aware of the non-too-
inconspicuous Preventive Security agents who were hanging around the 
entrance. Waiting for him. They really were amateurs. All except 
Branch.

	If any of them recognized Colonel Latr or showed any surprise at 
seeing him there, they didn't show it. Let him be recognized! It would 
make for an even more interesting report on their part.

	Croft entered the Claritan building. Security was tight. He 
evaded it. All it required was a bit of misdirection here, shadowing a 
guard there--and then he was through the security cordon. With several 
hundred years of practice, it was all getting to be too easy.

	Croft made his way to the executive floor. He wondered if Banks 
would pick him up through his electrobinoculars. That would certainly 
make for interesting viewing!

	Croft made his way to the President's office. The current 
President of the Claritan Corporation was Carly Wentworth. In her outer 
office was a male receptionist, flanked by two beefy but well dressed 
guards. "May I help you?"

	"I'm here to see Ms. Wentworth," said Croft.

	"Do you have an appointment?" said the receptionist effeminately.

	"No," said Croft.

	"Then I'm afraid I can't let you in, Mr...."

	"T'kaya Latr. Colonel T'kaya Latr. Preventive Security Service."

	"I'm sorry, Mr. Latr. You'll have to-" the receptionist cut off 
in midsentence.

	"Can I have your name please?" Croft asked.

	"My what?"
	"Your name please," said Croft. "For my report."
	The receptionist took a deep breath. "Just a moment please." He 
activated the comm and spoke softly but urgently into it. After a 
moment he said, "President Wentworth will see you now."
	"Thank you," Croft smiled.

	Croft entered the office to see a striking blonde standing there 
in a formal five piece women's business suit complete with formal 
business skirt.

	"Preventive Security?" said President Wentworth. "Is there some 
problem?"
	"There is," said Croft, turning to make sure the door was closed 
behind her. Then he proceeded to tell her the story. How the Imperium 
planned to nationalize all major corporations and seize their assets. 
Starting with the Claritan corporation. Croft produced convincing 
looking memos and downloaded them to Wentworth's computer.

	"It's all been a step by step process," said Croft. "You notice 
how the tax rates have steadily risen?"

	"Believe me, I've noticed," said Wentworth.

	"And the inspections? The tenfold increase in regulations? All a 
test, to see how you react, to prepare the way for complete 
nationalizations," said Croft. "They're start small, with so-called 
'troublemaker' industries, some you own, and some you don't. When they 
see they've done that successfully, then they'll move to take over more 
and more of your assets."

	"Why would they do this?" Wentworth asked.

	"Control," said Croft. "The Imperium isn't satisfied with 
military control. It wants total control over the economy as well."
	"But they have the power to tax-"
	"They want total control," said Croft. "Total. Just like the 
Slurian Union."
	There were no private corporations in the old Slurian Union. And 
Emperor Karn was a former Slurian. Wentworth shuddered. She got the 
point. Croft smiled.

	"And you are telling me this because-"

	"Not all of us think these radical economic changes would be a 
good idea," said Croft. "Some of us prefer the gentler approach of the 
former Standard Imperium. We're trying to remedy things, but we need 
your help."

	"My help? How?" Wentworth asked.
	"Nothing much," said Croft. "A few corporate donations, made by 
you and some of your neighborly megacorporations."

	"You want us to fund a rebellion?"
	"It's called the Freedom League, actually," said Croft.

	"Aren't they calling for free elections?" Wentworth asked.

	"Yes, they are," said Croft. He smiled again.

	"Helping your organization could be very risky."

	"What do you think the Imperium is going to do with you in the 
next year?"

	"Do with me?"

	"You don't think they're going to take over your company and just 
leave you to putter around in retirement, do you?" said Croft. "Oh, 
mid-level and lower management they'll keep in place, they'll need to. 
But you, you command loyalty in the company. You'll be a threat to 
their existence."
	"A threat?"
	"Of course, you could decide to play it safe," said Croft. "And I 
bet it will be at least a few months before they get around to you. But 
get around to you they will."

	Wentworth licked her lips. "Suppose I knew someone who wanted to 
make a discrete contribution. How-"
	"The details are all contained in the data file I provided," said 
Croft. "All money can be deposited to an anonymous address on Grafton 
II."

	"Oh," said Wentworth. "That should be secure." Grafton was one of 
the few planets not under the total control of the Imperium. Then 
another thought occurred to her. "How do I know this isn't a trap, a 
trick, to test my loyalty?"
	"Believe it or not," Croft shrugged. "Just be careful of what you 
say in here tomorrow."

	"Why?"

	"Because I and a team are coming tonight to wire this room and a 
bunch of others for sight and sound," said Croft.

	"What? You're going to be monitoring me?" Wentworth said, looking 
shocked.
	"Yes," said Croft. "Unless...." He made a suggestion.

	Wentworth nodded. "I'll have to check with the board of directors 
first, though."
	"Take all the time you need," said Croft. "We are coming tonight, 
though."

	He turned and left. 



	When Croft got back to his vantage point he heard Banks yelling, 
"Stop teasing me, already!"

	"Sensitive, aren't you?" said Croft's voice from the machine.

 	"Why do you keep talking my ear off?" Banks said.
	"It helps pass the time," said Croft, after shutting the device 
off as well as his holomask and voice distorter. "I think we're done 
here."

	When they met they decided which rooms to wire for sight and 
sound. Croft let Banks do most of the suggesting as his notes were 
understandably more detailed than Croft's. If Banks had seen Colonel 
Latr meeting with Wentworth through his electrobinoculars, he didn't 
make any mention of it. Croft didn't know for sure that Banks even knew 
Colonel Latr, or even whether Banks worked for Preventive Security; but 
either way, it didn't really matter.

	"So let's plant the listening devices now!" said Banks.

	"Or... we could wait until the evening, when the building will be 
mostly empty and our task will be several times easier," said Croft.

	"You have a point," said Banks.

	Croft only smiled.

	That evening they approached the Claritan building. Croft looked 
around. There were a carload of Preventive Security agents across the 
street from the building in an aircar. Banks had undoubtedly told them 
where they were planning to enter. Good.

	They entered the building and breezed past security, with Banks 
moving in Croft's wake. They made their way up to the 200th floor. 
Croft handed Banks some of the listening devices. "You plant the ones 
on the east side of the building and I'll do the west side," said 
Croft.

	"All right," said Banks.

	Once the airlift door's opened they each made their way. Croft 
watched Banks maneuver around a security guard on his own. He wasn't 
totally without skills. 

	As soon as Banks was out of site Croft opened his comm. He keyed 
it to what he believed was the frequency of the Preventive Security 
Services, turned on the voice distorter, and said, "Hello? Hello?"
	There was no response.

	Croft raised an eyebrow and tried another frequency. Still no 
response.

	Maybe... he tried another typical frequency. "Is anyone there?"

	"Who is this?" it came back immediately.

	That must be them.

	"This is Banks. Croft is in the lobby. He's planting a bomb! You 
have to stop him!"

	"What? What?"

	But Croft didn't respond. He simply waited. He couldn't see what 
was happening, but he could only guess.

	The Preventive Security Agents, blasters drawn, rushed into the 
lobby. There would be no one there--except a reinforced team of 
Claritan security guards. The alarm would sound-

	Suddenly, there was a hooting sound of an alarm. Croft ran to the 
other side of the building, and saw Banks running towards him. "What 
happened?" said Banks.

	"I don't know, but the mission is scrubbed," said Croft. "Let's 
get out of here!"

	They made their way to the airlift and Croft pressed the button 
to call the aircar.

	"We're just going to ride down and leave through the front door?" 
Banks asked.	

	Croft gave him a knowing look as he opened the doors to the 
airshaft. It was dark but there were dim emergency lights. Croft 
entered the shaft and stood on a small ledge, and climbed a ladder to 
the next level. Banks joined him.

	When the aircar arrived, they simply jumped down a few feet on 
top of it, and waited for it to carry them to the ground floor. But 
Croft had them climb up to the second floor; they then went to an empty 
office, burned a hole through a fixed window exterior, and jumped out, 
landing with a roll on some shrubbery some distance from the main 
entrance.

	Banks eyed the commotion at the main entrance. "I wonder what 
happened?"
	"Let's concentrate on getting out of here, shall we?" said Croft.

	They made their way back to their hotel room.

	"What happened? Did we trigger an alarm?" Banks asked.

	"I don't know," said Croft. He opened his datapad, and keyed it 
to the classified intel stream emanating from the Imperial Intelligence 
network branch here on New Finland. While they were eating dinner, news 
came in, most notably that a number of Preventive Security agents had 
been apprehended trying to break into the lobby of the Claritan 
building.

	"Preventive Security?" said Banks.

	"They blew it again," said Croft. He pointed to an image of the 
arrested operatives. "They're the ones who got the alarm triggered."

	"How? Why were they there?"

	"Ask someone at Preventive Security," said Croft.

	"I don't know anyone there," said Banks.

	Croft merely gave Banks a deprecating look.

	Banks said, "So what are we going to do, try again tomorrow?"
	"I don't think so," said Croft. "After tonight, security is going 
to be trebled at the building. And I wouldn't be surprised if they find 
the devices we started to plant there."

	"But why can't we try again?"
	Croft sighed. It was like talking to a child. "Even if we were 
able to plant listening devices there, they already know we tried. They 
would suspect they're being listened in on, and they wouldn't say 
anything of value there."

	"Oh," said Banks. "So where does that leave us?"

	"Mission aborted," said Croft. "Return to August."



	Three days later Croft and Banks were standing in front of 
General Magnuson's desk. "This entire mission has been a disaster!" 
said Magnuson.

	"Yes, it has been, sir," said Croft. "And once again we have 
Preventive Security to thank for it. May I ask why they were following 
us?"
	Magnuson looked speechless for a moment. Then he said, "They 
weren't following you. They were there to provide backup support."

	"Isn't it customary for backup units to inform primary units they 
are there to provide support?" said Croft. "Somehow I never got the 
memo."
	"I admit there is sometimes a certain lack of coordination 
between Imperial Intelligence and Preventive Security," said Magnuson. 
"There probably should have been better communication."

	"Actually, sir, I was thinking that I could do my job even better 
without Preventive Security following me everywhere," said Croft.

	"You're quite right," said Magnuson. "I'll talk with them about 
reassigning their agents. I'm sure they can find productive uses of 
their time."

	"No doubt," said Croft.

	After they left Banks said, "You must feel really bad that the 
mission was blown."
	Croft sighed. "I'll just have to learn to cope with my 
disappointment."



	Two weeks later Croft met with Senator Beagan again.

	"Good work," said Beagan. "The Claritan corporation has made a 
rather substantial donation to our anonymous account on Grafton. So 
have two other corporate entities. We now have the financing we need to 
expand our operations even further."

	"Good," said Croft.

	Beagan pressed a button. "I'm downloading some videos to your 
datapad. It contains some nasty stuff. Interrogations, torture, all 
from department 19."

	Croft glanced expressionlessly at some of the images being 
downloaded to his datapad.

	"I want you to get this onto several of the anonymous data 
networks out there. The Imperium will try to repress the report, but 
hopefully before they do it will spread to enough subsidiary networks 
that it will be impossible to erase."

	Croft nodded.

	"We need you to meet with the Independent Shipper's Association 
on Erratta next. We need some items moved around with as few questions 
as possible, and their help would be invaluable," said Beagan.

	Croft nodded again. 

	"I must say how impressed I am with your ability. Even though you 
are watched by large groups of agents, even your own partner is spying 
on you, you always manage to slip away when you need to."

	"Back in the days of Column, I was one of the Eight, a level one 
agent," said Croft. "That used to mean something."

	"I can see why," said Beagan.

	"Can you give me a little more strategic vision here?" said 
Croft. "I can see that my actions are having an effect, but it would be 
nice to see the overall picture."

	"You can see it for yourself," said Beagan. "Strikes have broken 
out on nearly every major planet. The level of unrest in the population 
has risen. Corporations are starting to turn our way. We've started 
identifying some level of support in the military."

	"So when do we make our move?"
	"In the end, stirring discontent with the Imperium will help us, 
but only indirectly as it persuades the military to break our way," 
said Beagan.

	"Do you really think Karn's handpicked military are really going 
to turn on him?"
	"A number of them already have agreed to," said Beagan. "Not 
everyone was purged after Karn took over. A number are officers from 
the old Standard Imperium who still hold to the old ideals and are 
uncomfortable with the direction the Imperium has taken."

	"So eventually we stir up enough discontent to win over enough 
officers to our side," said Croft. "Once we take over, what happens 
then?"
	"Then? Well, we'll hold free elections,  I suppose," said Beagan.

	"Suppose?" said Croft. "Are you sure you aren't interested in 
another form of government, another kind of dictatorship, perhaps?"

	"I have stood for democracy and free elections all my life," said 
Beagan.

	"Yes, that makes you an ideal figurehead for this organization," 
said Croft. "I've put in some dues; I'd like to know who is in charge."
	"He doesn't meet with people."

	"He doesn't have to meet with me," said Croft. "But I would like 
to talk to him."

	"His identity is a closely guarded secret," said Beagan.

	"Those are the best kind," said Croft. 

	"Why do you need to know about him all of a sudden?" Beagan 
wanted to know.

	"When we were starting out I was willing, on a short term basis, 
to accept the fact that you were a genuine opposition force to the 
Imperium, without a lot of additional detail; but now that the 
resistance is gaining traction I need a little more information about 
whom I'm working for."
	"You're just one member of the Freedom League."
	"Who just happens to be your most highest placed spy," said 
Croft. "Let me put it in simpler terms; either you tell me who your 
silent partner is, or I walk."

	"Really? You would stop working with us?" said Beagan. "Why?"

	"Your plan is too well organized, two methodical, too planned 
out," said Croft. "It bears the striking characteristic of only two 
people I know in this galaxy. One of them is the Terrible Thinker."

	Beagan paused, and stared at the ceiling for a moment. "All 
right," he said.

	"All right what?"
	"You've practically guessed it already, you might as well know," 
said Beagan. He pressed a button, and a holoscreen flickered with 
static. After a moment, the static was replaced by an image of a man. A 
man with silvery eyes.

	"He figured it out," said Beagan, pointing at Croft.

	"I was wondering when you'd come out of hiding," said Croft, 
addressing Steven Quick.

	Steven Quick. Formerly the ruler of the June Directorate. Then 
the secret resistance leader in the war against the Insects. He had 
hidden alien friends who he worked with that no one knew very much 
about. He had surfaced just as August had been liberated from the 
Insects, to lead the fleet to victor after War Admiral Norman North had 
been captured by the bugs; but after leading the fleet to victory, he 
had disappeared again.

	And now he was back.

	"Hiding is not the word I would use," said Quick, his eyes 
gleaming.

	"How about lurking?" said Croft. "Or pulling strings from afar?"

	"You've played chess before, Clifford," said Quick, his bright 
eyes staring into Croft. "You know that some pieces are best suited to 
be used strategically as kings and queens, while others are best suited 
to be castles."

	"Or pawns," said Croft. "Why didn't you call me a few months 
ago?"
	"You didn't have any need to know," said Quick. "If you were 
captured and interrogated, that information would've fallen into enemy 
hands."

	"With you I never accept reason number one," said Croft. "Let's 
go with reason number two, please."

	"Well, your record over the past twenty years has not inspired 
the most confidence," said Quick. "Not only have you worked for Emperor 
Karn, but you were instrumental in putting him into power."
	"According to what Senator Beagan tells me, I was an unwitting 
instrument of the Emperor's," said Croft, frowning as he was 
uncomfortable with the term.
	"Yes, and that is very uncharacteristic of you," said Quick.

	"So is working for brutal dictators," said Croft.

	"Yes, that is true," said Quick. "And that is why we cautiously 
decided to let you approach us."

	"So generous," said Croft. "So now do you trust me again?"

	"Up to a certain point," said Quick.

	"Well, at least you're being honest," said Croft. "So tell me, do 
you plan on setting yourself up as the new government after Karn is 
gone?"
	"No Clifford," said Quick, shaking his head. "How you 
misunderstand me."

	"Well, you did have that little dictatorship thing going on June 
for a few centuries," said Croft.

	Quick sighed. "How simple it is to classify it as a dictatorship, 
and lump it all together with the others--the cruel, the domineering, 
the banal. In fact my dictatorship, as you call it, was no more brutal 
than your own War Admiral's."

	"So what do you have in mind this time?" Croft asked.

	"I think we have decided to give representative government 
another try," said Quick, giving that far away calculating look.

	"Well, that sounds nice," said Croft. "All we have to do is 
defeat Karn and his entire spacefleet."

	"It's not as simple as it seems, Clifford," said Quick, his eyes 
blazing. "There is a power behind the throne."
	"What do you mean?"

	"I have watched how Karn governs. He acts typically, like the 
petty Slurian military bureaucrat that he is, but in other way he acts 
most restrained."

	"Such as?"

	"He didn't do a large scale purge of the military right after he 
took power. That would have been standard Slurian procedure. Instead he 
gradually retired opponents and put his own men in place."
	"These new men being the ones we hope to turn to our side."

	"Not all are new and not all the new ones are as loyal as he 
could have hoped for," said Quick. "You don't know how much of a blow 
you dealt him by removing Dalbo from the equation. He had planned to 
vet his entire senior military corps using Dalbo."

	"Strike a blow for our side," said Croft. "But you were talking 
about a power behind the throne."
	"I don't know who it is," said Quick. "But there is someone else. 
And their habits, powers, and capabilities are unknown. So we must be 
careful."

	"I'll try," said Croft. He paused. "Hey, you didn't grab War 
Admiral Norman North, did you?"
	"No," said Croft. "Though I understand he has disappeared."

	"Should we expect him to reappear any time soon?"
	"That's hard to say," said Quick.

	"Can you write it down then?" Croft asked.

	Quick smiled. "You amuse me as always, Clifford. It's good to 
hear from you again."

	"Likewise," said Croft, as Quick's image faded. He turned to 
Senator Beagan. "Is that how we're going to do it? By bringing back the 
War Admiral?"
	"I have no knowledge of that," said Beagan. "If he's behind the 
War Admiral's abduction, he hasn't informed me. But if the War Admiral 
is returning, what about his brain damage? He could barely speak. 
Hardly a figure to rally around."
	"Puzzling indeed," said Croft.



	

Chapter 6: The Association of Independent Shippers



	A few weeks later Croft and Banks were called into General 
Magnuson's office. "Have you seen the latest situation reports?" he 
asked.

	"Yes," said Croft, trying to sound grim.

	"There are demonstrations all over the place. Unions are 
striking. Lies about the Imperium have been spread through public 
networks," said Magnuson. "It appears this Freedom League is a bigger 
threat than we thought."

	"We should investigate them more closely," said Croft. 
"Personally, I'd like to check out the League of Independent Shippers. 
Some of the intel we've been getting suggests that elements of their 
membership may be working with the Freedom League."

	"All right, do it," said Magnuson.

	The headquarters for the League of Independent Shippers was 
located on Erratta, ironically the same planet that housed the Galactic 
Union of Concerned Workers. Croft and Banks successfully planted 
listening devices in several rooms and then from a safehouse started to 
listen in.

	While they were sitting there Croft said, "I'm going to get 
something to eat from the kitchen. Do you want anything?"

	Banks shook his head.

	Croft went into the kitchen. A man looking exactly like Croft was 
standing there.

	"Have fun," Croft smiled. The man went back into the room with 
Banks. Croft, getting out his holomask, headed for the exit.

	Croft, dressed up as Colonel Latr, met with the head of the 
League of Independent Shippers and made his standard appeal, presenting 
the now familiar forged memos. The League was only too happy to 
cooperate; given their independent nature, they had never liked the 
Imperium to begin with. They agreed to cooperate and covertly ship 
certain materials needed by the Freedom League. Croft warned them as to 
which rooms in their building were being monitored.

	Croft left surreptitiously through the underground parking lot. 
But as he was walking by a parked car in the dimly lit garage, he heard 
his name called; "Croft!"

	Now, this was odd, as he was still wearing his Colonel Latr 
facemask. Croft turned and saw a nondescript man in an aircar, with a 
blaster pointed at him. Suddenly, he felt a wave of fear.

	"You must have me mistaken for someone else," Croft asked, trying 
to resist the fear.

	"Get in," said the man.

	Croft slowly got into the ground car. He thought the man would 
try to disarm him, but he merely said, "Take off that ridiculous mask."
	Well, there was no sense in keeping it on now. Croft flicked a 
switch and the mask deactivated. As he took it off he wondered how this 
man knew who he was. And how did he know that Croft was going to use 
the parking garage exit? Croft had just decided that on the spur of a 
moment as he was leaving the building.

	The man, sensing his thoughts, said, "As you can see, you've been 
painfully transparent."

	"Do I know you?" Croft asked.

	"You can call me Colonel Borscht," said the man.

	"Slurian. Preventive Security," said Croft.

	The man didn't respond.

	"Was there something you wanted? I'm pretty busy," Croft 
explained.

	"What bravado! We weren't wrong about you," said Colonel Borscht.

	"We?"	

	"We know what you're doing. We've known for some time, watching 
your pitiful attempts to destabilize the Imperium."

	"I have to take offense at that. I don't think they're so 
pitiful," said Croft.

	"You may cause some minor problems, but it is in the military 
that the power lies, and you have not corrupted them," said Borscht.

	"If you claim to have known about my activities for some time, 
why didn't you stop me earlier?" Croft said.

	"You are an enterprising agent." said Borscht.

	"Thanks," said Croft. He looked at Borscht and struggled to find 
something nice to say in return. "I like your tailor."

	"You have an odd and inappropriate sense of humor," said Borscht. 
He gave Croft an appraising glance. "But still, we may have use for 
you."

	"Who is this we?"

	"A group of people who supports order, stability, and directed 
growth."

	Suddenly Croft felt a chill down his spine. "You're not a 
Slurian. You're a... a...." What had the Professor Capybara called 
them? "You're a Screen."

	Borscht gave a wide smile. "And you have a brain as well."

	He was sitting in the car with the masterminds behind the Insect 
invasion. Croft's pulse raced. He tried to remain calm. What was this 
creature doing here, now? Wait. Quick had said that there was a force 
behind Karn's throne. It would just be like the Screen to be the 
manipulators.

	"So you're the one who's controlling Karn," Croft said in a flat 
voice.

	"An excellent deduction. But let's just say that I'm providing 
guidance," said Borscht. 

	"If you're guiding him, then why haven't you warned him about my 
activities?" Croft asked.

	"I was curious to observe your performance," said Borscht.

	"Writing a research paper, are you?" Croft asked.

	"Karn has many positive traits, but imagination and boldness are 
not among them. He is a steady but plodding administrator," said 
Borscht.

	"Hardly a glowing review," said Croft.

	"It has occurred to us that there might be others better suited 
to lead the Imperium."

	"Others?" said Croft. "Are you talking about me?" Suddenly, it 
all made sense. Croft's reputation as a superspy preceded him. Borscht 
was going to offer him the power to rule the galaxy!

	Of course! Who better to lead the galaxy than Croft! He imagined 
himself, sitting in the palace in Sarney Sarittenden, issuing orders 
and directing the future of the galaxy.

	"Ha ha ha ha ha." The vision collapsed with a pop as Borscht 
laughed. "You are imaginative, creative, and resourceful, but certainly 
not qualified to lead a galactic world government."

	"Oh," said Croft, looking disappointed. "And up to now you were 
saying such nice things about me."

	"However, your master might more qualified to take that role."

	"My master? I'm not a pet, I don't have a master," said Croft.

	"The one you call... Quick," said Borscht, biting out the name.

	Croft tried to look stupid. "You mean the dog, the little barking 
fellow-"

	"Do not play your idiot games with me," said Borscht. "I mean 
Steven Quick, and you know it."

	"I haven't seen Quick in-"
	"Do not bother to lie to me," said Borscht. "I want you talk to 
him. Tell him I have a proposition for him. Tell him I want to talk to 
him."

	"He doesn't get out much," said Croft. "To be truthful, I've only 
seen him once, and that was by holo."

	"Then the next time you speak to him, convey my message," said 
Borscht.

	"What? That you want to help him take over the Imperium?" Croft 
asked. "That's hard to believe, coming from the guy who helped the 
Insects conquer us."

	Borscht looked angry, and the fear emanating from him increased. 
"You foolish human, you think of everything in black and white. I 
guided what you inaccurately call the Insects because they demonstrated 
power and potential. But your resistance, led in part by you, showed 
even greater potential."
	"So after we won you switched sides. Some would call that 
opportunism."
	"It was I who saved your precious August from destruction," said 
Borscht.

	"What?" said Croft.

	"When the Insect Queen was about to destroy August, I prevented 
her from acting."

	"That was you?" Croft thought back rapidly. The Queen had been in 
a Monumental ship, on a course for August, about to destroy the planet. 
And with Monumental technology there was little doubt about her ability 
to do it. And then, at the last moment, the ship had turned around, and 
disappeared. No one really knew why.

	"Yes, because I saw the potential in your species," said Borscht.

	"So instead of destroying August you had our planets zapped with 
that energy draining mist," said Croft.

	"No," said Borscht. "Our task is to improve on species, not to 
retard their development. The attack with the energy mist was a last, 
vengeful act of the Insects. It was not our doing."

	"But who provided them with the energy draining mist?"
	"We did," said Borscht. "But at the time we provided it as a 
means to destroy your fleet, not retard your planetary development."

	"The fleet," Croft swallowed heavily. He remembered the slaughter 
at Vitalics. He remembered he still had his blaster. Borscht or 
whatever his real name was hadn't disarmed him.

	"Do you really think you can harm me?" said Borscht, as if 
sensing his thoughts. Suddenly he flickered, and changed, and became a 
hooded reptilian creature.

	Croft jumped in his seat.

	"Perhaps you like my natural form better."

	"No, I don't think so," said Croft, sweating heavily.

	The lizard flickered, and became Borscht again. 

	"I don't think Quick is going to join you," said Croft.

	"You don't think as he does and you might be surprised," said 
Borscht. "He did, after all, run a dictatorship for many years. This 
would be little different. All I want is for you to deliver my 
message."

	"Oh, I'll deliver it," said Croft.

	"Good," said Borscht. "You have my permission to leave now."

	Croft, sweating heavily, slowly got out of the aircar, never 
taking his eyes off of Borscht. He slowly made his way out to the 
street and into the sunlight.	

	He returned to the safe house where he had left Banks. He made a 
small tapping noise on the wall. In a moment the "other" Croft 
appeared. Croft nodded and returned to the room where Banks was 
listening.

	"This is boring," said Banks.

	Croft said nothing.

	"You've been silent like that all afternoon," said Banks. "Is 
something wrong?"

	Croft didn't reply.



	After a few days of fruitless eavesdropping (the League of 
Independent Shippers had, of course, been warned where the listening 
devices were located), Croft and Banks returned to August. They were 
very surprised to hear the latest news.

	"A senior official at Preventive Security has been arrested," 
said General Magnuson. "A Colonel T'Kaya Latr. Have you ever heard of 
him?"

	"Lat'r? Lat'r Lat'r Lat'r... hm...." Croft made a slight hmming 
sound as if he were trying to remember. 

	Banks spoke up. "Yes. We met him when we were investigating the 
unions. He was on one of the Preventive Security backup teams."

	Magnuson looked at Croft, as if to wonder why Croft didn't seem 
to remember this.

	"Oh, that Latr," said Croft, snapping his fingers. "Yes, I 
remember him now. Shifty fellow. Never trusted him. Why was he 
arrested?"

	"He has evidently been going behind our backs and fomenting 
unrest against the Imperium," said Magnuson. 

	"How was this discovered?" Croft asked.

	"We arrested a senior official of the Galactic Union of Concerned 
Workers. Under moderate interrogation, he said that Latr had come to 
him and bullied him into opposing the Imperium."

	"Imagine that," said Croft. "It seems like you can't trust anyone 
in Preventive Security nowadays."

	"What do you mean?" Magnuson asked.

	"Well, two of our operations were blown by Preventive Security. 
At the time I thought it was incompetence, but now, in retrospect, 
perhaps it was on purpose," said Croft. "I think, on the safe side, 
that the other agents who were following us should also be 
interrogated, just to be sure."
	"A good idea," said Magnuson sincerely.

	Croft gave a small smile.

	"Did you discover anything going on with the shippers?" Magnuson 
asked.

	"No," said Croft. "We listened in for several days. They seem 
clean."
	Magnuson nodded. "Well, keep following those leads."
	"We will," said Croft.

	When they left Magnuson's office Croft's mind was working in 
overtime. The Screen, Borscht, or whatever he called himself, knew that 
Croft had impersonated Colonel Latr. And yet he had allowed Latr to be 
arrested. Why?

	He didn't care. The answer came to Croft immediately. Borscht was 
focused on the big picture, who should rule the Imperium, and not on an 
intramural spat between intelligence branches. As long as Croft was 
useful, as a conduit to get in contact with Quick, he wouldn't expose 
him.

	But when Croft stopped being useful.....



	"This alien wants a meeting with you," said Croft. He was 
meeting, once again, with Senator Beagan (in person) and Steven Quick 
(via hologram). 

	"So he knows," said Quick. "I wonder how he figured it out."

	"Perhaps he detected a pattern, just as I did," said Croft.

	"Perhaps," said Quick, getting that far away look.

	"He seems to think that you're dictator material," said Croft. 
"Are you interested?"
	"I have already answered that question once before," said Quick.

	"Well, you could talk to him, gather information," said Croft.

	"No," said Quick.

	"It could be by hologram," said Croft.

	"He has no intention of making me any kind of offer," said Quick. 
"He knows I would never accept it. He's just using you to get to me."

	"You think so?"

	"Yes," said Quick.

	"And if you're right, and  if you don't meet with him, and he 
concludes he can't use me to get to you...."

	"He will have you killed," said Quick.

	"That's the part that I don't like," said Croft. "I think it may 
be time for me to go into hiding."

	"Not yet," said Quick. "I still have some more work that requires 
your unique skills."

	"What if the Screen pays me another visit before I finish your 
petty errands?" Croft asked.

	"Delay him," said Quick. 

	"He doesn't seem the delaying kind," said Croft.

	"You can be persuasive," said Quick.

	"You mean, with people other than you," said Croft. "Also, this 
Screen seems to know things." He explained how Borscht seemed to know 
where he would be in advance.

	"That seems to confirm one theory," said Quick.

	"Would you like to tell me which one?" Croft asked.

	"I have long suspected that the Screen have a limited 
precognitive ability," said Quick.

	"You mean they can see into the future, like Mongo?" said Croft.

	Quick nodded.

	"Then why don't they always win?"
	"I said the ability seems to be limited," said Quick. "Perhaps he 
followed you to the Independent Shippers but only sensed you would exit 
through the garage after he arrived. I don't know. But they are hardly 
invincible; our victory over the Insects showed that." He stared at 
Croft. "Our time is limited. Your next move is to recruit some 
assistance from the Super Specials."

	"The gammas?" said Croft, using the old name for them.

	"Particularly the one known as Mongo. He could be very useful to 
us," said Quick.

	"I'm not sure you want to recruit Mongo," said Croft.

	"Why?" said Quick. "From what I've gathered, he's served the 
League loyally for decades."

	"Loyally is not the word I'd use with Mongo," said Croft. "Yes, 
he's been helpful, but he's also been difficult, one of the most 
difficult gammas to manage. I'm not sure he can be trusted."

	"You have a personal relationship with him," said Quick curtly. 
"Use it." His image faded.

	"Personal relationship," Croft repeated. He was unsure whether 
that personal relationship would help or hurt.



	"Grassy and birdseys, yes, the Croft likes the natural outdoors, 
doesn't he?" said Mongo, giving a sarcastic grin as they walked in a 
park in downtown August. 

	"It's kind of nice," said Croft, looking around discretely for 
his tail. He was being followed nearly all the time now, making it 
harder and harder for him to make contact with Quick, even by holo.

	Mongo gave him a disgusted look. "Do not even bother to pretend. 
Mongo knows why you have brought him here."

	"What do you mean?" Croft asked innocently.

	"Mongo sees you betraying Imperium, doing foul acts, yes, foul, 
and talking to the one with the silvery eyes."

	Croft abruptly stopped walking, and turned to Mongo. "Have you 
told anyone this?"

	Mongo shrugged, and tried to think. "Hm.... Mongo not remember."

	"Mongo!" Croft shook his arms.

	Mongo wailed, and Croft let go.

	"Not to touch," said Mongo.

	"This is really important, Mongo," said Croft.

	"Yes, that is what you always say," said Mongo. 

	"Mongo, the Imperium has been locking people in jail, even 
killing them."
	Mongo shrugged. "Governments always doing these things."

	"There's a difference," said Croft. "The League locked up 
murderers and rapists. The Imperium is killing anyone who has a 
difference of opinion."
	Mongo shrugged again. "Mongo not care."

	"Mongo not care?" said Croft. "How can you not care?"
	"Is very easy," said Mongo. "For first time, Mongo treated very 
correctly." He lifted his chin. "Mongo is a Super Special," he said 
with genuine pride.

	"That's it?" said Croft. "You like the regime because they gave 
you a fancy name? All right, if you join me you'll be known as a Double 
Super Special."

	"What kind of a fool do you think Mongo is?" Mongo said. "Mongo 
sees how he was treated by the League, by the Croft.  Instead of 
cramped cell in diiiiirty institute, now given large top floor 
apartment with many, many views." He stabbed a finger at Croft.  "Mongo 
has servants, to give whatever Mongo wants." The finger stabbed again. 
"Mongo has large expense account, to buy whatever he wants." The finger 
stabbed again. "And yes, Mongo even has women."

	"Really?" said Croft. "I was unaware the Empire ran a dating 
service."

	"These women are specially assigned, yes, on special assignment, 
very special assignments," said Mongo, with a gleam in his eyes.

	"Prostitutes," said Croft, curling his lips.

	"Special military branch, Private Support Service," said Mongo. 
He licked his lips. "Only for the elite. Support, heh heh heh, yes, 
support, very special support, very private."

	"Swell," said Croft. "The Empire has its own division of 
prostitutes. And you're getting great food and accommodations, so what 
could be better? But must everything be about you, Mongo? Don't you 
care what happens to the people around you?"
	"Why should Mongo care?" And for the first time, Mongo looked 
unusually aggravated. "Did people care about Mongo, locked up in the 
Institute? Did people care about Mongo, when he was being poked and 
prodded? Did people care when Mongo never appreciated for all the 
important things he has done?"
	"The institute was never about cruelty, it was about keeping you 
safe and managing your tempermentality."

	"Mongo is not tempermental!" said Mongo, flapping his arms.

	"As for people caring, I care. We've been through a lot 
together," said Croft. "I've saved your life a number of times."

	"Yes, yes, a number of times, on missions where the Croft put 
poor Mongo into danger."
	Croft's eyes narrowed. "You've had several opportunities to join 
the opposition. You've never taken them."

	"Yes, wonderful, wonderful choices presented to Mongo, to join 
boorish Slurians, or Dumbable Thinker or Mind Blender. Just because 
Mongo avoided even worse choices doesn't mean that Mongo liked poor 
choice that Mongo has been stuck with."
	"Mongo, innocent people are being killed," said Croft.

	Mongo shrugged. "Is a very big galaxy."

	"That's it?" said Croft. "That's your answer? That it's a very 
big galaxy?"
	Mongo said nothing.

	"What about me?" Croft said, staring Mongo in the eyes.

	"What about the Croft?" Mongo asked.

	"Are you going to turn me in?" Croft asked.

	Mongo looked oddly at Croft. "In some futures Mongo sees himself 
telling others about the Croft's betrayal. In other futures, Mongo 
stays silent."
	"You can't even tell me what you are going to do? You need to 
predict the future to see what you are going to do?"
	Mongo shrugs. "Are many futures."
	Croft paused in midstep for a moment.

	"But one group of futures very clear," said Mongo. "Futures where 
Croft draws his weapon and shoots Mongo."
	Croft's face hardened. "What do you see then?"
	"Croft shoots Mongo, yes. Sometimes Mongo lives, sometimes Mongo 
dies. But the Croft is seen, yes, he is seen, and in minutes he is 
taken into captivity. Is taken to..." he seemed to struggle for the 
words for it... "something called Preventing Security, and after 
interrogation, is executed."

	"That's it?" said Croft. He smiled grimly. "You don't see any 
futures where I escape if I shoot you?"
	"None," Mongo assured him.

	"I'm sure your reporting is as unbiased as always," said Croft. 
Either way he was taking a risk--if he shot Mongo here, in the open, he 
might well be discovered and caught. But if he let Mongo go, there was 
no telling what Mongo would do.

	"You're free to go," said Croft.

	"So kind," said Mongo.

	"But I want to say one last thing," said Croft. "I don't know if 
you're capable of feeling the full range of emotions like we are. But 
if you turn me in, and I am killed because of you, you may find that 
you regret it later."

	"Regret it?" said Mongo. He looked puzzled. "Why would Mongo 
regret? What could Croft do to Mongo if Croft were killed?"

	"Nothing," said Croft. "I couldn't have anything done to you at 
all."

	"Then why would Mongo regret it?" Mongo asked.

	Croft turned his back on Mongo and walked away, leaving Mongo to 
puzzle away this concept which was virtually alien to him.  He watched 
Croft walk away, with a very quizzical look on his face.

	The next few days were very uncomfortable for Croft, to say the 
least. He honestly did not know whether Mongo would turn him in or not. 
After one day and then a second day he allowed himself to relax 
slightly. But just because Mongo hadn't turned him in yet, didn't mean 
that in some moment of pique he wouldn't do so later when it suited a 
whim.

	Or maybe Mongo had turned him in. Maybe Mongo had, and they were 
simply following him, observing, learning as much as they could before 
springing their trap.

	But Croft tried to shrug it off because he was an infiltrator and 
risk of discovery was something he had dealt with hundreds of times 
before in his lifetime.

	Still, it was a little different. He was here, on August, where 
he was supposed to be safe. But he wasn't safe, not anywhere.

	That was amply clear a few days later when he entered his 
apartment and found Colonel Borscht sitting in a chair.

	Croft raised an eyebrow. "Am I the one in the wrong apartment?"

	"Have you arranged a meeting?" said Borscht, getting to the 
point.

	"Ah... not exactly," said Croft.

	Borscht looked at him.

	"I haven't had the opportunity to speak to him."

	Borscht continued to stare at him. Something about that stare was 
unnerving. It suddenly occurred to Croft that Borscht could kill him 
here, in his apartment, without anyone seeing or hearing a thing. He 
didn't know why such a thought occurred to him; Borscht didn't even 
seem to be armed.

	"Ok," said Croft. "I've spoken to him. He's very busy."

	Borscht continued to stare.

	"Ok, to be honest, he's kind of reluctant to set up a meeting. 
For some reason I can't understand, he has this crazy idea you might 
try to kill him," said Croft.

	"Tell him I guarantee his safe conduct during our meeting," said 
Borscht.

	"Yes, well, I'm sure that will go a long way towards convincing 
him," said Croft, working to keep a serious tone.

	"This meeting is in his best interest. If he does not meet with 
me, I will be forced to crush your pitiful rebellion," said Borscht.

	"Hm," said Croft, trying to be as non-commental as possible.

	Borscht got up and walked to the door. But when he got to the 
closest point to Croft he said, "Set up the meeting. Now."

	Croft was still shivering after he left. 



	"So he really, really wants to meet with you," said Croft, 
speaking to Quick by secure holo. "I mean, like really really. I think 
if he's any more really that he's going to kill me."

	"We just need a little more time," said Quick.

	"What do you mean?"
	Quick paused, and then said, "We are almost ready to strike."

	"We are? Is this true? How?" This was news to Croft!
	Quick paused again. "To speak in the most general of terms, we 
feel we have persuaded a substantial minority of key members of the 
military to join our cause."

	"So let's strike now," said Croft. "I'll go into hiding 
immediately-"
	Quick held up a restraining holohand. "Victory is by no means 
assured. I would have liked more time to recruit more members of the 
military."
	"It doesn't sound like we have more time."

	Quick got a far away look with those shiny eyes of his. "Maybe we 
do. A few days, at least."
	"What do you mean?"
	"Tell the Screen that I will meet him three days from now."

	"Do you think that's wise?" Croft asked.

	"Oh, I won't physically meet with him," said Quick. "I'll meet 
with him by holo."
	"I'm not sure he'll agree to that," said Croft.

	"That's tough," said Quick unsympathetically, though whether his 
lack of sympathy was directed at Croft or the Screen was not 
immediately apparent.

	"Why talk to him at all? I'll just tell him you'll meet him in 
three days, you'll have your three extra days, and then I'll 
disappear."
	"Because my discussion with him will have a very important 
purpose," said Quick.

	"Which will be?"
	"It will get him away from his quarters at a time of our 
choosing," said Quick.

	"And why is that important?" said Croft. 

	"Because you're going to infiltrate his quarters."

	"Are you kidding?" Croft said.

	"He might have vital information on Karn's plans that would be 
useful to us in his personal data storage device," said Quick.

	"Assuming he even has one, much less one that can be understood 
by humans. Let's review the situation, shall we?" said Croft. "You want 
me to break into someone's home; but not just any someone, an alien, 
actually an alien who can see the future, such as a future where his 
home is broken into?"

	"That's exactly right," said Quick. "Hopefully he'll be 
distracted enough by his meeting with me that he won't have time to 
think much about you."

	"Are you trying to get me killed, or is this just an idle whim?" 
Croft asked.

	"I know of no one better suited for this than you, Croft," said 
Quick. "If it weren't important, I wouldn't ask you to take the risk."
	"What do you really expect me to find there?" Croft asked.

	"I'm not sure," said Quick. "But information is power. And right 
now, he has the most information."

	"I'm sure this information will be in the Screen language," said 
Croft. "That's a language I don't happen to speak or read."

	"We will provide you with a specialist," Quick assured him.

	"I'm sure this Screen creature probably has quarters based 
somewhere in the palace, in Sarney Sarittenden proper," said Croft. 
"But it's a big palace. How do I find where?"

	"You'll have to break into the Palace database. Find out where 
the most secure areas are," said Quick. "He will be in one of them."

	"Sure, I'll just infiltrate the Palace, the most heavily guarded 
place in the galaxy, and wander around until I find it," said Croft. 
"Oh wait, before I forget, you're also providing me with a language 
specialist; I suppose I'll have to carry him around too."

	"He doesn't weigh much," said Steven Quick.



	"You've got to be kidding," said Croft.

	He was at Levi Esherkol's lab.

	"You've got to be kidding," Croft said again. He was looking at 
Quick, the type 212(b) Pomeranian.

	"What is wrong?" said Levi.

	"You want me to take your dog?"

	Levi put his hands over Quick's foxlike ears. "Hush. He is very 
sensitive."

	"Levi, I am going to infiltrate the highest security 
establishment on August."

	"Which is why you take Quick," said Levi. "You yourself say it is 
difficult to take another person. With Quick is easy. Just put him 
under your jacket."
	"Just put him under my jacket," said Croft dully.



*****



	The next day Croft stepped into an elevator to find Colonel 
Borscht there, waiting for him. Croft, hesitating ever so slightly, 
entered, and pressed a button. The elevator started to move.

	Borscht looked at him.

	"It's arranged," said Croft.

	"Where?" said Borscht.

	Croft gave him a frequency number.

	Borscht waved his hand slightly. The elevator came to a 
disconcerting stop.

	Croft found himself perspiring uncomfortably.

	"That's a holofrequency," said Borscht.

	"That's the best I can do," said Croft. "He didn't want to meet 
in person. I don't understand why," he said, performing perhaps his 
most strained liespeak ever.

	Borscht paused, considering his options. Then he nodded slightly. 
"When?"
	"Three days from now, noon," said Croft.

	"Why so long?" said Borscht.

	"He's a busy guy," said Croft.

	He looked around. The elevator was still stopped. He looked at 
Borscht. He had the uncomfortable feeling that Borscht was debating 
whether to let him leave the elevator alive.

	"Are you going to start this thing up again?" said Croft. "This 
building has a lot of floors, and it's not polite to keep people 
waiting for the elevator."
	Borscht actually hissed at him, yes, a hiss, and then the 
elevator started up again.

	There was an awkward silence as the two stood in the elevator. 
Croft tried not to look at the Screen. 

	"He's made a wise choice," said Borscht, just before the doors 
opened.

	"Oh, I'm sure he has," said Croft insincerely, stepping out.

	When he left the elevator, his shirt was drenched with sweat.



*****

	Three days later...

	"It's Croft," said General Zarucki.

	"Can you be any more specific?" said Emperor Karn.

	"He's a traitor."

	"You've been making that accusation for some time," said Karn. 
"Do you have any evidence?"
	"Let me bring him in for interrogation. I'll get you your 
evidence," said Zarucki.

	"I used to work in the NGB, remember?" said Karn. "I'm as aware 
as anyone else that under interrogation one can be made to say 
anything."
	"That's precisely why Colonel Latr's confession was a 
fabrication," said Zarucki.

	"How convenient for you, if it were true," said Karn. "So Latr's 
confession was coerced, and therefore invalid, but if you only had 
Croft to interrogate, you could get a real confession out of him, 
correct? And how would we know the real from the fake, ah, General?"
	"I would know," said Zarucki.

	"And I am normally such a trusting man," said Karn. "But in this 
case your rivalry with Imperial Intelligence is well known. Do you have 
anything else to offer? If not, I have a busy day ahead."

	"We have done a pattern study of this Freedom League," said 
Zarucki. "We have calculated that the leader of this resistance must be 
a great organizer."

	"Croft? Are you going to say that your analysts have concluded 
that only he could be leading the resistance?"
	"No," said Zarucki. "Though cunning, he doesn't have the 
logistical or planning talent to lead a broad resistance. There is only 
one great thinker we know of who could be behind this."

	"Who?"
	"A name with which you are familiar. Steven Quick."
	Karn's eyebrows went up. "And your evidence?" 

	"I could show you the pattern analysis, but it makes sense," said 
Zarucki. "He has been content to pull the strings from behind the 
scenes before. This makes sense."

	"Perhaps it does," said Karn. 

	"And if it really his Steven Quick, then his close associate, 
Clifford Croft, must also be involved."

	"Quite possibly," said Karn. "If Quick is involved, if Croft has 
aligned with him. But those are two big if's. You are not merely asking 
to torture any common citizen; if this were the case, we wouldn't even 
be here talking about it. You are asking to interrogate one of my top 
operatives. I'm not going to let you interrogate Croft unless you have 
concrete evidence."

	"Let me propose a compromise," said Zarucki. "There is a Super 
Special who can see possible futures."

	"Yes, I know of him," said Karn, with an odd expression on his 
face.

	"Let me bring him to Croft and see if he can see any possible 
futures where Croft betrays us."

	"Possible futures? There are many futures, so I'm told."
	"I'm told that this special can tell us which futures are more 
likely than others," said Zarucki. "Croft would not be harmed, either 
way. What is there to lose?"

	Karn considered, then nodded. "Very well. But I want the findings 
to be recorded, in the Special's words, not yours. Report your findings 
to me immediately when you have them. "

	"You can be sure of that," said Zarucki.



*****



	While this conversation was going on, Croft was only a few 
corridors away, infiltrating the Palace with a small dog stuck in his 
jacket. Levi assured him that Quick would not make any loud sounds that 
would alert the guards. He also assured him that Quick wouldn't do any 
other business while inside his jacket.

	Croft knew a secret entrance into the palace, accessible through 
the underground part of the city. He went cautiously to the precise 
location. The entrance was still there, hidden behind a wall in a 
storeroom. Croft activated it, and a dark passage opened up. Croft 
climbed up it, and in a few seconds he was in the palace.

	The last time he had staged an entrance like this the Capital had 
been occupied by the Insects. That had been over 140 years ago but the 
memory of it came rushing back to Croft. He remembered going into 
there, guns blazing, with Preston, the Silencer, Red Sally, and the 
Professor Capybara--so many friends missing and gone. Red Sally was 
dead, the Silencer had disappeared, and the Professor--well, he was 
somewhere, out there, on the planet of the Capybaras.

	Croft noted the shiny walls of the palace. The colors of the 
walls were like the rainbow; they changed depending on how you glanced 
at them. Croft snuck past a guard, and then another and another; all 
were dressed in the black of the Emperor's personal guard, but all were 
no match for Croft's stealthy skills. Quick's nose and foxlike ears 
poked out of the top of Croft's jacket. Quick, thank goodness, was 
keeping silent, as promised.

	Croft made his way to an auxiliary monitoring station which 
happened to be vacant. He quickly hacked into the database, keeping one 
eye on the door. Quickly he brought up a holographic schematic of the 
palace. He keyed a display which color coded the security levels. One 
area with the highest security rating was obviously Emperor Karn's 
quarters, and the throne room. But there was another area, a small room 
there in the corner... that didn't seem to have any identifying 
information about its purpose. That must be it.

	Croft turned off the display and made his way there. He had to 
pass through two hallway checkpoints, which wasn't easy; in each case 
he had to make a distracting noise, have the guard turn, pivot silently 
behind the guard, and then sneak away. Agility was the most important 
skill an operative could have. Graftonites would have made great 
infiltrators--if they weren't so enamored of using guns all the time.

	Finally Croft reached the room in question. There was a lock on 
the door of a most unusual design--there was a keypad, but it was all 
in alien symbols.

	How was he supposed to figure this out?

	It was at this point that Quick, figuring out that they had 
stopped, decided to push off Croft's ribs with his powerful hind legs, 
forcing his head to appear out of the top part of Croft's jacket.

	"What are you doing?" Croft whispered.

	Quick looked at the keypad. 

	"You can decipher that?"
	Quick nodded.

	Croft didn't question it. He just took Quick out of his jacket, 
and held the dog up so he could manipulate the keypad with his front 
paws. 

	Quick started to tap out combinations. The first few came up 
invalid.

	Croft heard footsteps in the distance. He couldn't tell if they 
were coming this way or not. He drew his blaster cautiously.

	"We don't have forever," said Croft.	

	Quick continued to try out combinations on the keypad. The sounds 
of footsteps receded.

	Quick spent several more minutes working on it. Croft tried to 
weigh alternatives. Could he cut through the door? No, the door was 
made of the same strange metal the rest of the palace was--it was 
nearly impossible to cut through. That only left blowing the door up, 
and that would create a sizable noise and attract considerable 
attention, something they were trying to avoid-

	Suddenly Quick tapped in a new combination, and the door slid 
open.

	"Luck?" Croft inquired.

	Quick only stuck out his little pink tongue and gave the smallest 
of smiles.	 They entered the room and the door closed behind them.

	There were a number of odd things in the room, but Croft went 
immediately for the terminal. At least, it looked like a terminal, but 
if it were one it was the oddest one Croft had ever seen.

	Suddenly, Quick's small but powerful hindlegs kicked against 
Croft's rib cage and he lept from Croft's jacket onto the console.

	"Ow," said Croft, rubbing his sore ribs. "You could have just 
asked."

	"Bow wow," said Quick, already circling to study the control 
console. He started to tap a few keys with his paws. The machine gave a 
discouraging burping sound, but otherwise displayed nothing.

	"I thought you knew this language," said Croft.

	"Grrrr," said Quick, quickly licking his lips. 

	Time started to pass, first five minutes then ten then twenty. 
The Screen was supposed to be tied up in a holomeeting with Quick 
(Quick the person, not Quick the dog). But how much time did that give 
Croft?

	"Are you going to be able to crack the entry code?" Croft asked.

	Quick snorted.  Suddenly, he tapped a combination of keys, and a 
holo of the database appeared in front of them.

	"Arf arf!" said Quick, wagging his tail.

	"Keep working, little dog," said Croft. "We need specific 
information about the Imperium."

	

*****



	"So finally we meet," said Colonel Borscht, staring at the holo 
of Steven Quick. "I feel like we've known each other for a long time." 

	"What an odd thing to say," said Quick, his eyes gleaming. There 
was no image of the background behind him, to give away his location; 
this was a tight focus holoimage.

	"While we haven't formally met, I've been very familiar with your 
operations for some time, now, when you are leading this resistance, 
but even before, when you were leading the revolt against what you call 
the Insects," said Borscht. "Even before then, we watched you govern 
what you called the June Directorate, and we liked much of what we 
saw."

	"You liked it so much that you helped the bugs invade and take 
over the League and my Directorate," said Quick. "I don't know how to 
deal with such admiration."

	"We helped the Insects, as you call them, because we thought they 
had potential. They did have potential. It just turns out, however, 
that your race has more."

	"Very flattering," said Quick. "You do seem to be running things 
now."
	"Not running things," said Borscht. "That is not what we do." The 
distinction seemed to be very important to him, for some reason.
	Quick said, "I suppose when you refer to 'we', you refer to other 
beings such as yourself, known as the Screen."
	"A crude pronounciation, but acceptable," said Borscht. He was 
aware, of course, that Quick was most probably recording this 
conversation. But Quick wouldn't live long enough to do anything with 
it, so Borscht felt that he could talk reasonably freely. "I am merely 
here in an advisory capacity. Our goal is to strengthen other species, 
so they may improve themselves."
	"You're a regular humanitarian," said Quick. "That is, if you 
were human, you would be. So why are you talking to me?"
	"You have raised this token resistance to the Imperium."
	"If it's so token, why are you bothering to talk to me about it?"
	"It is not the resistance that we are interested in but in you," 
said Borscht. "Your mental skills, for a human, are almost legendary."

	"Thanks," said Quick. "What did you have in mind?"

	"Karn has many notable skills, but he does not have your 
analytical ability. We propose that you take over the empire."

	Quick raised his eyebrows and tried to look surprised. "Really? 
Do you think Karn would agree to that?"
	"His agreement would never be in doubt," said Borscht.

	"You would buy him off with a good pension?" Quick asked.

	"Something like that," said Borscht, smiling slightly.

	"I see," said Quick. "You don't anticipate any resistance from 
the rank and file?"
	"This is an Empire. Resistance, internal or external, is not 
tolerated," Borscht said simply.
	"Hm," said Quick. Someone was offering him control over the 
inhabited galaxy. This wasn't something that happened every day. 
"Suppose I took over... once I took over... what would happen then?"
	"You would run the Empire, as you see fit," said Borscht. He 
looked oddly at Quick. Shouldn't that have been obvious?

	"Really?" said Quick. It wasn't so obvious to him.

	"Really," said Borscht. "We encourage autonomy as much as 
possible."

	"Nice to hear," said Quick. "So why are you involved at all?"

	"We help societies develop at a more rapid pace," said Borscht. 
"We provide technical and managerial advice."

	"Managerial advice," said Quick. Suddenly recognition dawned on 
his face. "You're like management consultants, only you kill clients 
who don't take your advice. By the way, why didn't you offer any of 
this managerial advice to the League?"

	"The League was weak, effete. There were too many voices, too 
many layers of bureaucracy. It was truly an inefficient form of 
governance," said Borscht.

	"Unlike, say, a dictatorship," Quick said.

	"A pejorative word for centralized governance. I believe you 
practiced this form of governance in your own June Directorate for some 
time."

	"A benevolent form, which allowed for maximum freedoms, yes," 
said Quick.

	"Some of those excesses would have to be curbed, but basically 
you would be allowed to govern as before."

	"Which excesses?" Quick asked.

	"Theatrical flourishes you encouraged, such as freedom of speech 
and of the media. Purely a distraction. Both should be employed as 
tools of the state to motivate the populace."
	"I see," said Quick. he sensed the Screen wasn't a big fan of 
political pluralism. Or theater, for that matter. He paused for a 
moment.

	"What is your answer?" Borscht asked.

	Quick appeared startled. "You're offering me the rule of the 
galaxy, and you're expecting a quick answer? I need a few days, at 
least."

	"You have until the end of this conversation to give your 
answer," said Borscht.

	"I don't work well under time pressure," Quick said.
	"I have heard the exact opposite about you," said Borscht.

	"What if I simply say no?" said Quick.

	"Then you and your associates will be quickly located and 
executed."
	"Quickly?" said Quick. "You haven't had much luck locating us so 
far."

	"We have located nearly all of you," said Borscht. "You may find 
that some of the people you recruited were a little too eager to join. 
And they proved to be quite talkative. All it takes is one signal from 
me to have them all rounded up."

	"I see," said Quick.

	"What is your answer?" Borscht asked again.
	"Still thinking," said Quick, giving a quick smile.

	Borscht's eyes narrowed. "You are delaying. That is obvious. The 
question is, why?"



*****



	"Wow," Croft breathed. He was watching a recorded holo between 
Colonel Borscht and Emperor Karn. 

	"How is the plan progressing?" Karn asked.

	"Croft is on his way to the space station," said Colonel Borscht. 

	"Is the holoimpersonator program of Admiral Dulin ready?"
	"It is."

	"It had better be perfect. Croft is no fool," said Karn. 

	"It will work," said Borscht.

	"And the men, to take care of the War Admiral."
	"They are in place."

	"I trust that there is nothing to trace them to you, or to me?"
	"No," said Borscht. 

	"Good," said Karn. "I want them eliminated after the 
assassination, just to be sure."

	"It will be done," said Borscht.

	The holorecording faded.

	"Did you get that recorded?"

	"Arf!" said the dog.



*****



	"Something is happening," said Borscht. He appeared to 
concentrate and close his eyes. He stared into space for a moment. 
Quick watched him with silvery eyes.

	"My quarters... someone is attempting to penetrate my 
quarters..." he opened his eyes and stared directly at Quick. "Clifford 
Croft!" He snarled. "I will take care of both you and him at the same 
time."

	"You think so?" said Quick. His hand pressed something off-
screen.



*****



	A light blinked insistently on Croft's comm. He scooped up Quick 
into his jacket. "Time to go, little dog."



*****



	"I know so," said Borscht. "You thought you were oh-so safe and 
secure, by meeting me in holo only. You planned to scramble your signal 
and bounce it off a number of locations so the true location would 
remain unknowable. But your pitiful technology is no match for the 
Screen. We know your precise location, and are moving in now."

	Quick looked unruffled. "Really? What is my precise location?"

	Borscht looked down at an indicator. His face registered 
surprise. "You... you are here, on August!"

	"Getting warmer," said Quick, giving a small smile. "Can you be 
any more specific?"

	Borscht zoomed in on his display. "Here... in the capital." But 
as he zoomed in more he saw something else. "You're... moving."

	"One of ten thousand aircars," said Quick. "Good luck finding 
me." His signal faded.

	Borscht gave a shrill scream that shook the walls. When he had 
calmed down, he pressed a button. "Apprehend Clifford Croft 
immediately. Have him brought to me at once."

	

*****



	Croft slipped out of the palace. He had ever so briefly toyed 
with the idea of assassinating Emperor Karn himself--he was only a few 
hundred feet away. But he hadn't studied the location of the guards, of 
the layout. The last time he had launched a poorly planned raid on 
Sarney Sarittenden, there had been bad consequences.

	Karn would have to be dealt with later. But now that Croft knew 
that he had ordered the War Admiral to be killed, Croft had no remorse 
about assassinating the man.

	Croft made his way through the underground part of Sarney 
Sarittenden, the city, and made his rendezvous with Levi. 

	"Did get information?" Levi asked.

	Croft nodded. "More than you can imagine. But they're on to us. 
We've got to get off August, now."
	"My private transport-"

	Croft shook his head. "They'll have a total embargo around 
August. We'll have to sneak out." He told Levi a location. "Meet me 
there in two hours."

	"Where you going?"
	"I have to get Preston," said Croft. "If they're after me, 
they'll be after him too."

	"Sounds dangerous."

	"It probably is," said Croft. He handed Levi the recording they 
had made. "If I'm not there in two hours, get this information to 
Quick."

	"Luck good," said Levi. 

	"Yes, luck is good," said Croft.

	Quick arfed and wagged his tail in Levi's arms.

	"Good working with you too, Mr. Animal," said Croft.

	He walked for a while, putting some distance between himself and 
Levi. Then he activated his comm.

	Preston's face appeared. "Cliff?"

	"Hey Preston. How are things?"
	"Fine," said Preston, his eyes darting left and right. "And you?"
	"All right," said Croft. "Wondering if you'd like to catch an 
early dinner."

	Preston stiffened at the use of the first code phrase. "Where?"
	"The usual place."

	The second code phrase. Put together, they meant one thing: 
escape!

	"Sure," said Preston. "I've got some work to finish here, but I 
can be there in an hour."

	"Sounds good," said Croft. That meant a half hour. He terminated 
the connection.

	Croft killed some time, wandering around idly. He constantly 
moved around, staying in very crowded places. When a half hour  had 
passed, he went to a certain plaza in downtown Sarney Sarittenden.

	He looked around. Preston wasn't there yet. There were other 
people walking across the plaza, in different directions.

	Croft waited a few minutes, looking around carefully. Suddenly, 
he noticed someone walking across the plaza who had just done so a 
moment before. And then a second person he recognized.

	He had been spotted.

	Croft fast walked to the far end of the plaza. He went to turn 
around the corner-

	and was face to face with two blasters. 

	"Preventive Security," said one of the agents, with only a trace 
of a Slurian accent.

	"I'm Clifford Croft, with Imperial Intelligence," said Croft.

	"We know who you are, Agent Croft," said the agent.

	"What is this all about?"
	"General Zarucki would like to see you."
	"I'm very busy right now," said Croft.

	"This shouldn't take long," said the agent. He raised his blaster 
slightly. Croft turned his head to see two more agents, both with 
blasters drawn.

	"When you put it that way, I suppose a few minutes won't kill 
me," said Croft.

	"For your sake, I should hope not," said the agent, carefully 
removing Croft's blaster from his jacket.



	"Ah, agent Croft," said General Zarucki. "How good of you to 
come."

	Croft had been brought to the local offices of Preventive 
Security. Croft was in an office flanked by several of Zarucki's men.

	"You better have a good reason for this, General," said Croft. 
"I'm a personal friend of the Emperor." He decided to keep up the act. 
How much did they know?
	"You are here with the Emperor's knowledge and approval," said 
Zarucki. "Don't worry, you're only here for a talk."

	"A talk," said Croft, glancing at the black uniformed men around 
you.

	"You will not be touched, you have my word," said Zarucki.

	Suddenly another agent entered the room.

	"What is it?" Zarucki snapped. "I gave word I was not to be 
disturbed!"

	"Sir, we have received orders regarding agent Croft. He is to be 
transferred to Colonel Borscht's office immediately."

	Oh oh. Borscht's talk with Quick had obviously concluded. This 
could only mean one thing, and it wasn't good.

	Zarucki looked irritated. "You can have him when I'm done."

	"Sir, these are priority orders," said the agent.

	"Oh no," said Zarucki, vigorously shaking his head. "I'm not 
going to let this traitor slip out of my fingers once again!"

	Croft willed himself not to smile. Zarucki mistakenly thought 
that Borscht was trying to rescue him.

	"Sir-"

	"This will only take five minutes," said Zarucki. "Wait outside, 
and have the other one brought in."
	Other one?

	Croft didn't have to turn his head to see who had entered.

	"Yes, yes, we knew it would come to this, we knew," said a very 
familiar voice.

	"Thank you for coming," said Zarucki. "Your service is valued 
greatly by us."

	"Such kind words, yes, very kind," said Mongo.

	Croft turned to look at Mongo. Mongo defiantly returned his 
stare.

	"We won't take much of your time," said Zarucki. "We have only 
one question, and it is a simple one. I take it you know this man, 
Clifford Croft?"

	"Yes, yes, we know the Croft." Mongo turned to go.

	"Where are you going?" said Zarucki.

	"General says, he says, only one question have. And Mongo 
answers."

	"No... whether you know Croft wasn't the question."

	"Then why did General ask?"
	"I was just establishing things," said Zarucki. He wiped the 
irritated look off his face. "I just want you to tell me if this man is 
a traitor."

	"Oooooh." Mongo looked at Croft. "Ooooooh." He was silent.

	"What's wrong?"
	"Mongo not good with presents. Much better with futures."

	Magnuson saw the problem. He had asked if Croft were a traitor, 
right now. "Well, all right, in any futures you see, do you see him 
betraying the Imperium?"
	Mongo looked at Croft, and they matched glances.

	"Many futures," Mongo said.

	"So I've heard," said General Zarucki. "Well?"
	Mongo was silent.

	"Well?" said the General again.

	"Must concentrate. Are many futures."

	The General waited in silence for a moment.

	"Do you know what the penalty for deception is?" said Zarucki.

	"Deception?" said Mongo.

	"If Croft is found to be a traitor, and you concealed that fact, 
you'll be sent to Department 19."

	"Hey!" said Croft. "Coercion is hardly going to get you a honest 
answer."

	"Wait," Mongo said, and there was a tone of pleading in his 
voice. "One more minute. Just need another minute." His tone was oddly 
compelling. Why did Mongo need a minute? He knew Croft was a traitor to 
the Imperium. Either he was going to betray him or he wasn't. What did 
another minute matter?

	Finally, after a minute passed, Mongo looked up at Zarucki, and 
nodded.

	"What does that mean?" said Zarucki.

	"The Croft is traitorous," said Mongo. "Very traitorous."

	Croft felt a surge of electricity jump through him.

	"What?" said Zarucki, looking surprised, despite himself.

	"See many, many traitorous acts that the Croft will commit. Is 
working with the Freedom League, with the one with the glowing eyes."
	"Guards!" said Zarucki. A broad smile filled his face. They moved 
in and grabbed Croft by the arms. "I don't think your personal 
relationship with the emperor will help you now."

	"Are you really going to believe him?" Croft asked.
	"The emperor will," said Zarucki, savoring this moment. He turned 
to Mongo. "Why did it take you so long?"
	Mongo shrugged. "Is not like starting an aircar. Takes time to 
tell, sometimes."

	Zarucki nodded. He had gotten what he wanted.

	"What do we do with him, sir?" said a guard.

	"Take Mr. Croft to Department 19," said Zarucki, relishing the 
order he had wanted to give for so long. "Any last words, Mr. Croft?"

	"Free wheeling, high and tiny little birds, see them fly, see 
them fly, high in sthe sky!" said Croft.

	Zarucki looked puzzled.

	"I always wanted to say that," said Croft. "I just never had the 
occasion."

	"I don't think you'll be laughing when a blaster is put to your 
head. Goodbye, Mr. Croft."

	Croft was escorted from Zarucki's office. He was forced marched 
by four agents out of the building towards a waiting aircar, where 
another agent was manning the wheel.

	Suddenly, a thin bolt of light hit one of the agents, and then 
another. Both fell. The two remaining agents moved to draw their 
blasters. A third was hit by another laser bolt, and the forth received 
a chop in the neck by Croft. Croft scrambled for the agent's blaster as 
the fifth got out of the aircar and drew his own blaster.

	Croft and the agent aimed at the same time; there was a 
discharge, and the agent at the aircar crumpled. Croft had been 
slightly faster. 

	Croft ran for the aircar. Other agents started to run towards 
him, but a torrent of laser fire caused them to hesitate. The laser 
fire seemed to be coming from some distance, higher up. Croft got into 
the aircar and gunned the engine. In moments he was gone.



*****



	"What?" said Karn. "Croft was a traitor after all?"

	Colonel Borscht was in his throne room, along with General 
Zarucki and several of his agents.

	"We obtained the evidence," said Zarucki. He had played the 
holorecording of Mongo's testimony.

	"And then you let him escape," said Borscht. "Your incompetence 
will be noted."
	Zarucki looked concerned. Even though Borscht was a colonel and 
he was a general, he knew the influence that Borscht had on the 
Emperor. And, for some reason, he felt irrational fear around the man.

	"We must search for him immediately," said Zarucki.

	"He's an infiltrator," said Borscht. "You will not find him."

	"I will put my best men on it."
	"Your best men are not as capable as this man," said Borscht. "I 
have another task for your 'best men'." He handed Zarucki a datapad.

	"What is this?"

	"A list of traitors in the military.

	Zarucki looked at the list. "There... are hundreds of names here. 
Where did these come from?"

	"My own intelligence sources," said Borscht. "Have them arrested 
at once."

	Zarucki looked up at Karn, who nodded. Saluting, Zarucki turned 
and left with his men.

	"Hundreds," said Karn, looking sternly at Borscht. "Hundreds of 
traitors in the military. How did this happen all of a sudden?"

	"It did not happen all of a sudden. It took time to develop."

	"Why did you not notify me sooner?" said Karn.

	"When I had a handful of names, I knew you would do the crude and 
direct act of arresting them, driving the rest underground."

	"With proper interrogation, we could have gotten the names of all 
the conspirators before the list grew quite so large," said Karn, 
looking keenly at him.

	"With proper interrogation, your men would say anything, and 
there would have been massive purges that would have weakened your 
military," said Borscht. "I preferred to conduct the investigation on 
my own."
	"How fortunate you chose to reveal the results now," said Karn. 
"Are there any other discoveries that you are saving for later?"

	"Yes," said Borscht. "Your enemy is not the Terrible Thinker."
	"I never thought it was."

	"It is Steven Quick."

	"Quick?" said Karn. "It really is him?"
	"It really is," said Borscht.

	"How do you know that?"
	"Through my sources," said Borscht.

	Karn stared at Borscht. Then he said, "If it is him, he has a 
detailed, long term plan."

	"Which I've just uncovered. Even General Zarucki is competent to 
round up a list of names," said Borscht.

	"Yes," said Karn. "But what of Croft?"
	"He is only one man," said Borscht. He had already discovered 
that Croft had tapped into his database. He knew the information that 
Croft had. "There is nothing he can do."
	

*****



	Later, Croft met up with Preston and Levi and Quick.

	"Thanks," Croft said to Preston, who was still hefting his 
assassin's rifle and long range sights. "How did you find me?"
	"I arrived at the plaza just as they were grabbing you," said 
Preston. "I followed you to the Preventive Security offices. It took me 
some time to get this rifle and get into position on an adjacent 
rooftop,  though. You're lucky you came out when you did. Any sooner 
and I wouldn't have been in position in time."

	"Yes, lucky," said Croft. Had Mongo worked things out this way? 
Or had Mongo really intended to betray him? Croft might never know for 
sure.

	They quickly discussed their plans. "They will have a full 
embargo for anyone trying to leave the planet," said Croft. He turned 
to Levi. "You might actually be safer if you went into hiding here."

	"And you?" said Levi.

	Croft held up the recording that Levi had returned to him. "I 
have to get this onto one of the interstellar networks. They're too 
closely controlled on August. Preston and I will have to go off-
planet."

	"But if blockade-"
	"We're infiltrators, Levi," said Croft impatiently.

	"Oh, yes, right," said Levi. "Luck good."
	"Luck good to you too," said Croft, watching him leave.

	"So what do we do now?" Preston asked. 

	"We arrange suitable transportation."

	"But I thought there was a blockade."

	"I don't think they'll search ships with Preventive Security 
ID's, do you?" said Croft.

	In a few hours they had stolen a suitable scout ship and adjusted 
the ID transponder accordingly. Preston found himself breathing easier 
as they left orbit, passing several rows of battleships circling the 
planet.

	"So what now?" Preston asked.

	"We have to get this information out to the public," said Croft.

	"How?" Preston said. "There's censorship everywhere."

	"Not everywhere," said Croft. "Not on the private Graftonite data 
networks." While many Graftonites worked for the Imperium, Grafton 
itself maintained its traditional neutrality, and even the Imperium 
didn't want to devote the manpower and resources required to subjugate 
the Graftonites.

	"But even if we get the information on a Graftonite network, it's 
illegal for people in the Imperium to tap into them," said Preston.

	"But people do," said Croft. "There's also another reason to go 
to Grafton. We need to get this holo seen by all the regional fleet 
commanders."
	"So?" said Preston. "We're infiltrators. We'll get in."

	"But in case we have trouble getting out, we need a Graftonite," 
said Croft.

	"I don't know, Cliff," said Preston. "An awful lot of Graftonites 
are working for the Imperium now. 

	"I know one who isn't," said Croft.

	"The Silencer? Do you really think he'll help us?"
	"With a little persuading, yes," said Croft.

	"I heard he had retired," said Preston.

	"I'll charm him," said Croft.

	The ship sped towards Grafton. Croft connected to one of the 
private Graftonite databases (after paying a large fee, of course--if 
you're poor, don't come to Grafton!) and found that the Silencer didn't 
have a home address.

	"He has no home?" said Preston.

	"Apparently he lives somewhere near the Through River Valley," 
said Croft. "It says here he's a park ranger of some kind."

	"The Silencer, a park ranger?"
	Croft sighed. "You have to understand the situation. The Insects 
killed his wife. He was pretty upset about that."

	"But that must have been, what, over a century ago?" Preston 
said.

	Croft held up a restraining hand. "There's more. Then a few years 
later, he saw his wife, Annie, on Grafton."

	"She wasn't really dead?"

	"She was," said Croft. "But the Insects had made a clone of her."
	"Uh," said Preston, making a face.

	"No, not one of those human-Insect hybrids they tried to 
produce," said Croft. "This was a regular clone. I think they were 
trying to create regular Graftonites, and just brainwash them to serve 
the Insects."

	"So she works for the Insects?"
	Croft shook his head. "Apparently, she was cloned just before we 
overthrew the Insects. They didn't have time to brainwash her, simply 
to give her a basic personality. She was rescued during the liberation. 
But when John, the Silencer, saw her, she didn't remember him. What's 
worse, she already had a fiancee."

	"Oh," said Preston.

	"Even worse, the Silencer killed her fiancee."

	"That wasn't very nice of him."
	"I heard there were extenuating circumstances," said Croft. "The 
fiancee was trying to kill him. But Annie wasn't very forgiving. She 
said she'd kill John if she ever saw him again."

	"I can see why that might be depressing," said Preston.

	"So he's gone off to hide in the forest," Croft sighed. "Well, at 
least we know he's not working for the Imperium."

	During the voyage Croft had an opportunity to review the 
recording again. It clearly showed Karn plotting to kill the War 
Admiral. It made him hot with rage. He wanted to kill Karn himself. 
Karn had not only plotted to kill War Admiral Norman North, but he had 
used Croft to implicate Admiral Dulin, the War Admiral's immediate 
successor. Karn deserved to be executed. Croft hoped to be able to do 
the job personally.

	Croft sifted through the other data that Quick had been able to 
retrieve. The recording they had showed Karn plotting to kill the War 
Admiral, but it didn't clearly show the involvement of the Screen; 
Borscht had undoubtedly made this recording to use to control Karn, but 
had no need or desire to reveal his real form on it.

	Croft continued to review the other recordings. And then one of 
them made him sit up. One of the recordings was of a Screen having a 
holoconversation with another Screen. Croft didn't know what they were 
saying, though their languages sounded awful, like weird, screeching 
clicks and groans. But the end of the conversation was what interested 
him most. After the Screen terminated the holoconversation, he suddenly 
shimmered, and-

	turned into Colonel Borscht. 

	"I got you," said Croft. He not only had Karn's connection to the 
assassination attempt on the War Admiral, but his connection to the 
Screen as well. The very same Screen who had helped the Insects invade 
the Alliance.

	Now, all they would have to do is live long enough to get the 
information broadcasted.

	When they reached orbit around Grafton II, Croft plotted a course 
to the valley where the Silencer was last reported to be. The scoutship 
was small enough to land in an open field. How big this valley was, and 
how difficult it would be to find the Silencer was another question.

	While he was plotting the atmospheric entry path, however, a 
message came out of his comm. 

	"Attention, Scoutship!" came a harsh voice. "This is the orbital 
patrol group of the Imperial Graftonite Brigade. You have been 
identified as an enemy of the Imperium. Stand by to be boarded!"

	Croft checked the scanners. A transport, accompanied by two 
fighters, were approaching.

	"Quick, aren't they," said Croft, sharply turning into the 
atmosphere and accelerating. He toggled the comm. "Attention, 
Graftonites. We are law abiding citizens on private business. You must 
have us confused with someone else."

	"You have been identified as enemies. Turn off your engines or we 
will open fire."

	Croft set the engines to maximum. "Wait. Are we enemies to be 
taken alive, or enemies to be killed?" He checked the course as he 
spoke. The other ships were closing.

	There was a pause on the other end. Then, "Our orders were not 
specific."

	"Don't you think you'd better check?" said Croft. "What if we're 
wanted alive, and you kill us? You certainly won't get your merit 
badges then."

	"Hold on," said the voice on the other end.

	"Certainly," said Croft, keeping the engines at maximum. Features 
of the landmass could clearly be seen now. They just needed a few more 
minutes. The other ships were in pursuit but hadn't opened fire.

	The Graftonite must have been conferring with someone because it 
was a few minutes before he returned. "My orders are to take you alive, 
if possible."

	"Well, it's not possible to take us alive if you blow up my 
ship," said Croft reasonably. He readjusted his course. He could see 
the valley below.

	"Turn around and land at the Regular Spaceport," said the 
Graftonite. 

	"Will do," said Croft, not changing course in the slightest.

	Suddenly, the ship was rocked by a laser hit.

	"Hey," said Croft. "What happened to that part about taking us 
alive?"
	"If possible," said the Graftonite. "I sense that will no longer 
be possible."
	A laser barrage hit the ship. Croft was thrown against a wall as 
the ship started to spin out of control. He got to his feet as he saw 
land rushing up towards them. A bit dazed, he saw Preston checking the 
controls. "They're out," he yelled.

	"Escape pod,"  said Croft. They staggered in, sealing it, and 
pressed the eject button... just a few hundred feet above the ground. 
The pod's sensors, sending a landmass nearby, activated the antigrav 
cushion, and the pod slowly settled towards the ground.

	A fighter streaked by as the pod made its leisurely descent.

	"Can't you make this thing go any faster?" said Preston 
nervously.

	"Not without killing us," said Croft.

	"They could fire at any time," said Preston.

	"I don't think so," said Croft. "Now they know we're not going 
anywhere, I think recovering us alive has become an option once again."

	The pod landed with a thump in a forest. In seconds Croft and 
Preston were out. They were surrounded by trees and chirping birds.

	"There's no open space around here," said Croft. "Good. Even the 
transport won't be able to land here."

	"How long will it take them to get here?"

	"It depends if they have gravitators," said Croft. "If they do, 
fairly quickly. If not, it depends on where the nearest open landing 
field is."

	"So which way should we go?" Preston asked.

	"That way," said Croft, pointing in a direction.
	"Any particular reason why?" said Preston, as they started 
walking.

	Croft said nothing.

	"I thought so," said Preston.





Chapter 7:  Death of the Silencer



	Have you ever been totally, totally lost in the wilderness on 
Grafton II with a group of Graftonite killers chasing you? Not many 
people can honestly answer yes to that question, but Clifford Croft and 
Preston could.

	"We have got to get this recording disseminated," said Croft. "If 
they catch us, we lose."

	"We're trained infiltrators," said Preston.

	"Yes," said Croft. "Infiltrators of society. Have you ever tried 
to infiltrate a bush or a tree?"

	"Good point," said Preston. He looked around at the green trees, 
the babbling brooks. "Still, looks nice and peaceful here. A great 
place to have a vacation, if we weren't being hunted."

	"Hm," said Croft. He noticed smoke in the distance. Civilization? 
A cabin in the wilderness, maybe? It was worth the risk to check out. 
He and Preston headed towards it.

	It was farther than it looked. When they got there, almost an 
hour later, the smoke was largely gone. If someone had lit a fire, they 
had just put it out.

	When they got there they were disappointed to see the cause of 
the fire. It was the smokey ruin of their scoutship. Bits and pieces 
still smoked here and there, but Croft noticed that larger pieces had 
dirt shoveled over it, as if someone had put out the fire with a 
shovel. 

	Croft looked around, first left, and then right. He heard a twig 
snap. So did Preston. They drew their blasters. Croft looked around 
again. He saw nothing. Then he felt someone tap on his shoulder. He 
turned around, his blaster drawn, but his weapon was knocked from his 
hand. He found himself staring into the cold face of John Norman, the 
Silencer himself.

	"I don't appreciate people starting fires in my forest," said the 
Silencer.

	"We didn't exactly start the fire," said Croft. "You can blame 
your fellow Graftonites who work for the Imperium for that. They shot 
our ship down."

	"Hm," said the Silencer, casually collapsing a shovel in his hand 
and putting it away in a backpack.

	"Actually, John, we were coming to see you," said Croft.

	"I don't work anymore," said the Silencer. He started walking 
away. Preston and Croft followed.

	"This isn't a conventional job," said Croft.

	"None of your jobs were conventional," said the Silencer. "I'm 
retired now."
	"Really?" said Croft. "It looks like you're working now."

	The Silencer shrugged. "It pays the bills, and the work is 
minimal. And it gives me time to be alone."

	"John, I know you're upset about Annie," said Croft.

	The Silencer glared at him when he said the name.

	"I mean, I can only imagine how I would feel if my wife died, and 
then returned, and then refused to have anything to do with me."

	The Silencer continued to glare.

	"This isn't really helping, is it?" said Croft.

	The Silencer didn't respond, just kept walking.

	"Listen, John, there's a bunch of people chasing us, they're 
trying to kill us."

	"There usually is," said the Silencer. "You should be used to it 
by now."

	"But listen, you're a park ranger, right?"

	The Silencer nodded slightly.

	"So it's your job to enforce the law here, to protect us."

	"That's not my job," said the Silencer. "My job is to conduct 
surveys of wild animals, to prevent forest fires, and to rescue 
stranded travelers--for an additional fee, of course."

	"Then rescue us," said Croft. "We'll pay."
	"Sure," said the Silencer. "I'll guide you out for only 2000 
credits."

	"Fine-," Croft started to say.

	"But I won't protect you from whoever's chasing you."
	"Why not?"
	"Not part of my job," said the Silencer woodenly.

	"Listen John, there's a lot here at stake," said Croft.

	"There usually is," said the Silencer.

	"John, we have evidence that General Karn was the one who 
assassinated War Admiral Norman North."
	"Interesting," said the Silencer dully.

	"And his government has been repressing people for twenty years!"

	"No one's been repressed in my forest," said the Silencer.

	"So if it doesn't affect you personally, you're not interested," 
said Croft. "Well, that doesn't surprise me in the slightest. All 
right, John Norman, I'll speak to you on a level you can understand. 
You owe me a favor, and I want it right now."
	"I owe you?" said the Silencer, raising an eyebrow.

	"Maybe you've forgotten, but I saved your brother Martin from a 
Slurian prisoner of war camp."

	The Silencer frowned. "From what I remember, I saved him."

	"And I helped. How did you find out where he was?"

	The Silencer paused. "As I recall, you might have played some 
minor role in that."

	"And you hired me for that minor role. And you promised to do me 
a favor whenever I asked, did you not?" Croft asked.

	The Silencer paused again. "Maybe I did."

	"So I am calling in that favor."

	"That was a very long time ago," said the Silencer.

	"I wasn't aware there was a time limit on debts," said Croft 
sarcastically. "I risked my life to help rescue your brother for free. 
Are you saying you were lying when you promised to help me in return?"
	The Silencer sighed. "It doesn't really matter. What do you 
want?"

	"We have vital information we need to place on one of the major 
Graftonite data networks. Then we need help getting off-planet safely."
	"That's all?"

	"That will do," said Croft. He could have asked for the 
Silencer's help in other ways, but didn't want to push it.

	The Silencer considered. "All right. But I want a promise from 
you in return."

	"What?"

	The Silencer turned to face him. "I want you to leave me alone, 
and to never ever come to see me again."

	"John-"
	"That's my price. I want to be left alone." The Silencer was 
adamant.

	Croft slowly nodded. "All right. If that's what you want."

	The Silencer nodded. They had an agreement.

	They walked in silence for a while. Suddenly they heard a 
whizzing noise. A man in black on an anti grav pack came whizzing into 
view, rushing towards them. The man rapidly drew his blaster but so did 
the Silencer. The Silencer got off one shot first and the man went 
crashing to the ground.

	Croft went over to the body and felt for a pulse. He was dead. 
Croft also noticed the black uniform. The man was part of the 
Graftonite Imperium Brigade.

	The Silencer walked by the body without even looking at it. He 
didn't even care.

	The man's gravpack had been pierced by the blaster shot. It was 
ruined.

	Croft had a request. "Ah, John, the next time you shoot someone 
in a grav pack, can you try not to hit the gravpack?"

	The Silencer neither turned around nor responded. 

	Croft and Preston continued to follow the Silencer.

	"I told you he would help us," said Croft.

	It was late in the afternoon when they encountered their next set 
of adversaries. There were three of them, all dressed in black. They 
didn't have their weapons drawn, but, being Graftonites, they didn't 
feel the need to have their weapons drawn.

	"Those two are wanted," said their leader, addressing the 
Silencer. "Stand aside and you will not be harmed."
	"You stand aside and you will not be harmed," said the Silencer. 
But he wasn't staring at the leader; he was staring at one of the 
others, a woman.

	"Do you know who we are?" the man asked.

	"Do you know who I am?" said the Silencer coldly, still staring 
at the woman.

	"I know who you are," said the woman, equally coldly. "You're the 
cold blooded killer known as the Silencer. You killed my fiancee, and 
now I'm going to have my revenge on you."

	It was Annie Oakley, the clone of the Silencer's wife.

	She didn't call herself Annie Oakley, of course; her name now was 
Cindy Pascal. But she was dressed in the all black uniform of the 
Graftonite Imperium Brigade. She stared coldly at the Silencer, tensing 
up, waiting for him to draw.

	"Let's keep this professional," said the leader.

	"Let's not," said Pascal, her eyes glaring.

	"I agree," said the Silencer, his eyes narrowing.

	All four drew their weapons at once. So did Croft and Preston, 
but compared to the Graftonites, they drew in slow motion, and the 
battle was over before they had fired a shot.

	Two of the black clad Graftonites were lying on the ground, 
presumably dead. Pascal stood by her companions, looking shot, nursing 
a sore hand. Suddenly Croft realized what had happened. Not only had 
the Silencer outdrawn all three of them, but in the time he spent 
killing two of them he still had time left over to aim carefully enough 
to merely shoot the blaster from Pascal's hand. 

	"Hands behind your back," the Silencer barked, taking a step 
forward.

	Pascal looked at her gun, on the ground by her feet. Her thoughts 
were obvious.

	"I'll kill you where you stand," said the Silencer, radiating red 
hot anger.

	"I believe you," she said angrily, reluctantly putting her hands 
behind her back.

	The Silencer took some electrorope out of his backpack and tied 
her hands. When it was tied he removed the unbonding mechanism and the 
rope sealed tight around her.

	"Why didn't you kill me like the others?" said Pascal. "That fits 
in with your cold blooded reputation."

	"Get moving," said the Silencer, giving her a push.

	They walked in silence for a time. Then Croft attempted to strike 
up a conversation. "Hi," he said.

	Pascal said nothing.

	"My name is Clifford Croft. I just thought I'd say hello."

	Pascal spat in his direction.

	"That's not very nice," said Croft. 

	"You are enemies of the Imperium," said Pascal. "I have nothing 
to say to you."
	"And why are you, a Graftonite, such an Imperium lover?" Croft 
asked. 

	"The Imperium brings order, and stability."

	"I thought Graftonites were rugged individualists," said Croft.

	"We are, when the pay is better," said Pascal.

	"Were you ever a bounty hunter, like John?"

	"I was never like him," said Pascal. 

	"You were very much like him," said Croft. "You were married to 
him for over a hundred years."

	"I never was."

	"Your predecessor was," said Croft. 

	"I can't imagine why," said Pascal.

	"I knew you, you predecessor, quite well," said Croft. "I think 
at first she admired his shooting ability."	

	"He does have some mechanical skill, I suppose," said Pascal.

	"But then she told me she admired his tenderness, and strengths 
of character."

	"Tenderness? Him?" said Pascal.

	"You're not seeing John like he was. He was devastated when you, 
your predecessor was killed. When your predecessor--may I refer to her 
as Annie?--was killed, John was a prisoner of the Insects. He was 
forced to fight giant insect beasts in an arena, with only one good 
arm-"

	"One good arm?" said Pascal, listening in spite of herself.

	"His right arm was crippled for a number of years because of a 
blaster shot. During the Insect occupation we didn't have the means to 
heal it."

	"So he fought off giant bug monsters with one arm?"

	"That's right," said Croft.

	"Hm," said Pascal.

	"But they were only able to keep him in line by promising him 
that one day he would see you again."

	"You mean this Annie you mentioned," said Pascal.

	"Yes," said Croft. "When we finally rescued him and overthrew the 
Insects, we discovered that you, I mean Annie, had been killed by the 
Insects. John went crazy after that."

	"It sounds like he cared for her very much," said Pascal.

	"He did," said Croft. "Can you imagine his shock when he saw you 
for the first time? Do you know the circumstances of your birth?"

	Pascal shivered, but nodded and reluctantly responded. "I'm told 
I was cloned from his wife by the Insects. They were going to make me 
into a mindless killing machine, but I was rescued before they 
completed the process."

	"John didn't know you had been cloned," said Croft. "He spent 
years in depression. And then, when, by random chance, he saw you, he 
went crazy. Seeing you with another man drove him over the edge."

	"But I'm not the same person," said Pascal. 

	"You look like Annie; you sound like Annie; you have the same 
abilities as Annie," said Croft. "You may not be her, but you are the 
closest thing to her, even closer than a twin sister."

	Pascal glanced at the Silencer. "He killed my fiancee."
	"From what I understand, your fiancee was trying to kill him at 
the time."

	"He was only trying to protect me."

	"How would you feel if you saw your husband with another woman?"
	"I don't know," said Pascal. 

	As they continued to walk, Croft told her more of the Silencer's 
history; how he had helped defeat the Insect invasion, how he had 
beaten the dictatorial Graftonite Mo Quandry, how he had helped defeat 
the Mind Bender, and the Terrible Thinker, on numerous occasions, and 
how he had helped bring down the Slurian Union, and saved many lives. 
He also told her how General Karn had manipulated the situation, and 
why he and Preston were really being chased.

	"Aliens?" said Pascal. "The Imperium is being run by aliens?"
	"Indirectly, yes," said Croft. "Doesn't that make you proud to 
dress in black?"

	"We'd better stop here for the night," said the Silencer. "It's 
getting dark."

	He started to gather wood. "What are you doing?" Croft asked.

	"Starting a fire," said the Silencer.

	"Don't you think that will be rather conspicuous?" said Croft.

	The Silencer shrugged. "I don't want to eat cold food."
	Before long they had a warm fire going. The Silencer opened a can 
and cooked some meat. Portions were distributed on large leaves. When 
it came for Pascal's turn, however, the problem was obvious. Her hands 
were tied behind her back.

	"If I untie you, are you going to try something foolish?" said 
the Silencer.

	"If you're not quick enough, I might," said Pascal.

	"Cindy, aren't you hungry?" Croft asked.

	Pascal stayed silent.

	"John, why don't you compromise, tie her hands in front, so she 
can use them without getting shot."

	The Silencer considered, then nodded. He carefully untied her, 
and prepared to retie her hands in front of her. But, almost in a 
flash, Cindy used one of her free hands to reach down and grab for the 
Silencer's blaster. But the Silencer was even quicker, grabbing her by 
the wrist. She stared at him with a mixture of surprise, hatred, and 
admiration.

	After a long moment he retied her hands in front of her, so at 
least she could reach for her food.

	Then the Silencer, acting like nothing had happened, took out 
some powder, mixed it with water, and warmed several mugs of tea. He 
noticeably didn't warm Pascal's, however, handing her a cold cup.

	"John, it's not necessary to taunt her," said Croft. "You can 
give her warm tea too."

	"She doesn't like hot tea," said the Silencer, looking at her 
oddly.

	Croft looked at Pascal, who nodded, and sipped the tea. "How did 
you know that?"
	"Because I know her," said the Silencer, referring to Annie. He 
took out her blaster. "Pearl handled, I see. Is your bedroom decorated 
with rawhides?"

	"How did you know that? Have you been spying on me?" Pascal 
demanded.

	"No," said the Silencer. "There is no need to. Your favorite food 
is Elmer pears. You get an ache in your right ankle when it's about to 
rain. You like walking by streams, especially in the rain-"

	"How did you know that?" Pascal asked again. "Am I really just 
like her?" she added.

	The Silencer nodded.

	"It must be difficult for you, seeing someone so similar to her," 
said Pascal.

	The Silencer said nothing.

	"I'm beginning to understand what you went through," said Pascal.

	The Silencer volunteered to keep watch the entire night. Croft 
thought he wanted to stare at Pascal. But as he went to sleep he saw 
they were staring at each other.



	The next day they started walking again. Croft told her more 
about the Silencer's life, such as how he had boarded the cruiser that 
had captured Annie and killed every last insect aboard. But he also 
told her more about Annie Oakley's life; her famous career as a trick 
shooter, but also her warm heart and generosity. He made it clear that 
Annie would never join with the Imperium, or any dictatorship, and in 
fact sometimes helped people in need for free. 

	"And Annie was in love with the Silencer? They seemed like 
opposites," said Pascal.

	"Sometimes opposites attract," said Croft. 

	"We'll stop here for a rest break," said the Silencer suddenly.

	They sat down with their backs to nearby boulders. "You'll never 
make it out of here," said Annie suddenly. "I heard on my comm, my boss 
is coming here with his "A" team."

	"Your boss?" Croft asked.

	"Regil Fornicat," said Annie. "A five times Olympic gold shooting 
winner. Along with his team of nine men, all Olympic gold shooting 
winners."

	"Are you getting this, John?" Croft asked.

	The Silencer shrugged his shoulders.

	"He looks like he doesn't care," said Pascal.

	"He doesn't," said Croft. "He hasn't cared about anything since 
Annie died. That's why he's living here, wandering aimlessly in the 
forest."

	Pascal looked into the Silencer's eyes. He stared back at her. 
For a long time, no one said anything.

	Then they heard a twig snapping in the forest. Then another, and 
another. 

	They got up and saw a group of men in black approaching them. 
There were ten in all. One of them, presumably their leader, had thick, 
bright red hair.

	"That's far enough," said the Silencer.

	The Graftonites stopped. "Do you know who we are?" their leader 
asked.

	"I don't care," said the Silencer.

	"My name is Regil Fornicat," said the leader. "If you want to 
live, I suggest you stand aside."

	"Regil, this is the Silencer," Pascal shouted.

	There was a murmur among the men in black. "The Silencer? We 
thought you were dead," said Fornicat.

	"Not yet," said the Silencer.

	"This doesn't have to come to violence," said Fornicat. "These 
men have an information disk we want."

	The Silencer considered. He looked at Croft, and then Fornicat 
and his men. He held out his palm to Croft.

	"What?" said Croft.

	"The disk," said the Silencer dully.

	"I can't hand it over," said Croft.

	"The disk," said the Silencer again.

	Croft reluctantly handed it over. He figured it must be some part 
of the Silencer's plan, though how it would help to give the disk over 
he had no idea.

	And then the Silencer actually tossed Fornicat the disk!

	"What!" said Croft, not believing his eyes.

	"I promised to protect you," said the Silencer, still not taking 
his eyes off Fornicat. "I never said anything about protecting a disk."
	Croft smoldered with anger while Fornicat looked smug.

	"You can go now," said the Silencer.

	"Not before you release her," said Fornicat, indicating Cindy 
Pascal.

	"No," said the Silencer.

	"It's all right," said Pascal. "Just let me go," she said.

	"No," said the Silencer again.

	"You don't stand a chance against ten of us," said Fornicat. 
"Even you. We're all Olympic gold winners, just like you."

	"You would fight him all at once?" said Pascal. "That's not a 
Graftonite fair fight!"

	"We're authorized to use whatever means necessary to complete our 
mission," said Fornicat. "We're not leaving without you."

	"I'll be all right," said Pascal.

	"You have your data. I suggest you leave while you still can," 
said the Silencer ominously.

	"I'm not going to ask again," said Fornicat, his hands drifting 
down to his blaster. His men did the same.

	The Silencer drew both of his blasters, lightning fast, as did 
they others. There was a flurry of blaster fire, and then it was over.

	Six of the black clad Graftonites, including Fornicat, had fallen 
to the ground. Four were left standing.

	So was the Silencer. He turned to Croft, and Croft could see his 
chest was filled with holes. The Silencer gave Pascal a longing look, 
and then fell to the ground.

	The other four Graftonites, weapons still drawn, moved forward. 
Croft and Preston had been smart enough not to draw their own blasters; 
they knew they wouldn't have stood a chance.

	"Are you all right?" one of the Graftonites asked Pascal.

	"Get this rope off of me," Pascal snapped. One of them proceeded 
to untie her.

	"What do we do with these two?," said another Graftonite, aiming 
his blaster at Croft and Preston.

	"Now that we've recovered the data disk, they are no longer 
necessary," said the other Graftonite. "Eliminate them," he said 
casually.

	"Wait," said Pascal, rubbing her sore hands. "They tortured me. 
Let me do it!" she glared at them.

	One of the Graftonites nodded, and handed over his blaster.

	"Thank you," said Pascal coldly.

	She tossed the blaster into the air... and then Croft suddenly 
remembered that Annie Oakley had been an expert trick shooter... the 
blaster went spinning several times before it paused, oddly, for a long 
moment as it reached its highest point... then it fell, spinning, into 
her hand... and even as it touched her hand, she was aiming and firing, 
again and again and again and again, exactly four shots, no more, and 
no less.

	Three of the four remaining Graftonites collapsed to the ground. 
The fourth, feeling his bloody chest, sunk to his knees. "Cindy... 
why?" he gasped.

	Pascal kicked him in the head contemptuously, sending him 
sprawling to the ground. "My name is Annie Oakley," she said coldly.

	She rushed over to the body of the Silencer. He was still alive, 
but only barely. He stared at her, seeing her look at him emotionally, 
and a hint of a smile appeared on the Silencer's face. And then his 
body went limp.

	"John!!!!!!!!!" Annie Oakley screamed his name at the top of her 
lungs. 



	They buried the Silencer near the spot where he fell. They simply 
ignored the bodies of the Imperium Graftonites. Annie couldn't stop 
crying. Croft recovered the data disk from the Graftonites and waited a 
respectful amount of time.

	After a while, Croft said, "Annie, we have to go."

	Annie shook her head, continuing to cry.

	"If we don't keep moving, another patrol will find us."

	"I don't care," she sobbed. 

	"But John would," said Croft. "He would want you to live."

	"Why, why did he do it?" she cried.

	"Because he loved you," said Croft. "And if you love him, you'll 
stay alive, and honor his memory with good deeds."

	Her sobs slowed. Slowly, she nodded. "Yes... yes..." she said 
slowly. "I'll kill him," she said, through gritted teeth. "I'll kill 
him slowly."

	"Who?" said Croft.

	"Karn," said Annie, still speaking through gritted teeth. "The 
Imperium. I'll kill them all."

	"That's exactly how John felt when he heard the Insects had 
killed you," said Croft. "Don't replay history! Be smart! Not every 
member of the Imperium deserves death. Help us free our people from the 
tyranny of the Imperium."
	"All right," said Annie, getting herself under control. "But I 
want Karn. Karn is mine."

	"All right," said Croft. "Let's get moving."

	They started walking.

	In a few hours they ran into another patrol, this time of three 
black clad Graftonites. 

	"Let's pretend we're your prisoners, and-"

	"No," said Annie. "Stand aside."

	The three black clad Graftonites looked puzzled when they saw 
Annie walking freely with Croft and Preston, but Annie explained it to 
them simply. "You can leave, or die."

	The three olympic medalists drew their blasters, but they were no 
match for Annie Oakley. She gunned them all down before any of them had 
a chance to fire.

	"Wow," said Preston.

	"We're just an hour from a landing pad," said Oakley. "With any 
luck, we'll run into another patrol." Her face was a mask of anger.

	Croft spoke quietly to Preston. "Some things change, but others 
stay the same."

	



Chapter 8: The Silencer's Family





	They reached civilization, and uploaded the data to the 
Graftonite networks. From there they would be disseminated across the 
galaxy. Whether the images would be believed was another matter. At the 
very least, they would create a whole lot of doubt.

	Croft's next task was to personally contact the senior military 
leaders of the Imperium, to try to convince them that the recording was 
true and to get them to switch sides. It would be a dangerous job. He 
was relieved to learn that Annie Oakley was willing to accompany them. 
She was even eager about it.

	But first Croft had an unpleasant duty to perform. He sent a 
transmission. He rented an aircar and went to the Silencer's house. 
There were three people, all armed, on the porch waiting for him. 

	All of them were the Silencer's brothers. 

	David Norman. Known as the Ken Pilot, one of the greatest pilots 
who ever lived. 

	Martin Norman. Known as the Whisperer. Like his brother, one of 
the best gunmen in the galaxy.

	And the third brother, a little less well known, was Nimrod 
Norman. Known as Peaceful. He was actually quite gentle; though if you 
made fun of his name, he would shoot you.

	They all looked grim. "Tell us everything that happened," said 
the Whisperer softly.

	When Croft did, their eyes blazed with anger.

	"Those bastards!" the Whisperer cried. "10 against one. I'd like 
to give them ten against one."

	"We're about to teach the Imperium a little lesson in fairness," 
said Croft grimly.

	"We're coming," said the Whisperer.

	"You are?" said Croft, sounding surprised.

	"Well, you're going to kill Karn, right?" the Whisperer asked.
	"Uh, that fits in with my plans, yes," said Croft, thinking 
quickly.

	So Annie Oakley and the Silencer's three brothers joined their 
mission. They were possibly the most potent fighting force in the 
galaxy.

	They headed to the main spaceport at Regular. It was patrolled by 
black uniformed Graftonites, but the Silencer's brothers didn't care; 
whenever they saw someone in black, zap! he was dead, even before Croft 
had a chance to say anything.

	But then there was a whole lobby full of black clad Graftonites, 
as well as other Graftonites going about their business. 

	"Halt!" said the leader of the black clad Graftonites.

	Annie stared coldly at him.

	"Surrender or be shot."

	"Who's going to shoot me?" said Annie. "You?"

	"All of us, if need be," said the Graftonite.

	"You hear that?" said Annie, raising her voice. "20 sniveling 
cowards are going to attack us all at once."

	The crowd of ordinary Graftonites stopped what they were doing 
and stared.

	"Just like ten of them attacked and killed the Silencer, 10 on 
one," said Annie.

	The crowd started to buzz with angry murmurs. "They killed the 
Silencer?" "That doesn't sound like a fair fight!"

	The lead Graftonite gunman looked nervous. "This is your last 
chance," he said, eyeing the crowd.

	"No, it's yours," said Annie grimly.

	What transpired next was almost two fast for Croft to see. 
Everyone's guns were out blazing, including the ordinary Graftonites 
standing in the crowd. When the smoke cleared all the black clad and a 
few of the ordinary Graftonites were on the ground, presumably dead.

	Annie and her brothers were not harmed. Neither was Croft or 
Preston.

	Annie gave Croft a superior look. She knew the others would come 
to their aid.

	"These are only a few of the butchers who believe in unfair 
fights. It's butchers like these who killed the Silencer."

	The crowd yelled its support.

	"We're going to August and we're going to kill the man who 
corrupted us, the so-called Emperor Karn."

	The crowd roared its support again.

	"Who wants to come with us?"
	The crowd suddenly grew silent.

	"Well?" said Annie.

	Someone spoke up. "How much does it pay?"
	"What?" said Annie.

	"The pay," said the man.

	"No one paid you to shoot these killers a few seconds ago."

	"Yes, but that was right here, and that was convenient," said a 
second Graftonite. "If you want us to go off-planet, that takes time, 
and effort. We have to be compensated for that."

	Other Graftonites were nodding their head. 

	"Forget it," said Annie disgustedly.

	"Wait a minute," said Croft. "We could use some of their help."
	"We don't need these sheep," said Annie.

	"Who are you calling a sheep?" one of the Graftonites declared, 
stepping forward.

	"No one," said Croft, stepping smoothly between the two, his back 
towards Annie. Hopefully it was safer to turn his back on her. 

	"She called someone a sheep."

	"She was referring to me," said Croft, uncomfortable in the angry 
man's glare. "I'm a sheep. Baa baaa." 
	The man glared at Annie, who glared back. Croft implored Annie 
with his eyes not to say anything further. Annie said nothing, and the 
man turned away.



	A few minutes later, they were in space.

	"Set a course for August," said the Whisperer.

	"Ah, it isn't that simple," said Croft. "We'll be blown out of 
space before we get there."

	"Not if I'm at the controls," said the Ken Pilot.

	"This isn't a nimble fighter," said Croft. They had actually 
appropriated a long range shuttle. "Even you would have trouble evading 
a squadron of fighters for very long."

	"What do you propose?" the Ken Pilot asked.

	"Let me find out what's been going on in the galaxy." Croft went 
to his cabin, and activated the holotransmitter. He had not been able 
to get in touch with Steven Quick for some time, which had been 
troubling.

	Croft left the connection open for five and then ten and then 
fifteen minutes. Suddenly, the holoimage of Steven Quick appeared.

	"Finally," said Croft. "I've been trying to get in touch with you 
for days. Where have you been?"
	"Busy," said Quick curtly. "Karn has had a large number of our 
supporters in the military arrested."

	"What? How?" Croft was stunned to hear this.
	"It was the Screen's doing, I suspect. They had infiltrated the 
ranks of our supporters."

	"How many were caught?"
	"About half," said Quick.

	"That doesn't sound very good," said Croft.

	"It isn't," said Quick. "However, you have added a new variable 
to the equation."

	Wow. He was a variable. From Quick, that was quite a compliment. 
Croft broke out in a broad smile. "You saw the broadcast."

	"Yes," said Quick. "The Imperium has tried to censor it, but 
millions have already seen copies of it or heard about it. In a few 
days almost everyone will know about it." His eyes gleamed in the 
distance, as if he were seeing it. Technically Quick could not foresee 
the future, as Mongo could, but he could, through the power of his 
superquick rational thought, predict likely outcomes.

	"I did well, eh?" said Croft.

	"This is not the time to be fishing for compliments," said Quick 
sternly. "We are still in a precarious situation. I did not anticipate 
that half of our military supporters would be rounded up. It must have 
been due to the Screen's special powers."

	"Any good news?" Croft asked.

	"I'm beginning to get feelers through third parties of other 
military officers wanting to join us," said Quick.

	"Really? Right after this roundup?"
	"Don't underestimate the effect of your broadcast," said Quick. 
"Many officers chose to remain loyal to the Imperium because the 
Freedom League, to them, is an unknown. But now they have evidence that 
their own leaders conspired to assassinate War Admiral Norman North, 
and are working with the Screen."

	"Sounds like they all should switch sides and join us."

	"Please do not oversimplify," said Quick. "Of course the Imperium 
has put out propaganda stating this broadcast is a forgery, and some in 
the military believe them. Still, we are attracting new supporters."

	"What can I do to help?"

	"There is a key ally you can help us enlist," said Quick.



	A few minutes later Croft returned to the forward section.

	"So?" said the Ken Pilot. "Are we going to August?"

	"Yes," said Croft. He started to set a course.

	The Ken Pilot looked over his shoulder. "That doesn't look like a 
course to August."

	"We are going to August," said Croft. He had already thought 
about how to portray this. "We're just making a slight detour to 
Vinland first."

	"Vinland is nowhere near August," the Whisperer noted.

	"But it has a great climate, and wonderful winter skiing," said 
Croft.

	"Croft," said Annie, with just the beginning of a 'if you don't 
do what I tell you I may shoot you' tone to her voice.

	"I already told you, we can't just shoot our way to August," said 
Croft. "We have to recruit a few more allies first. Then we'll have a 
fleet to back us up. "

	"That will take too long," said the Ken Pilot.

	"Too indirect," the Whisperer agreed.

	"Even if we kill Karn, his regime will still be in place, and 
someone else will take his place," said Croft.

	The Graftonites shrugged; all they wanted to do was to kill Karn.

	"We can't shoot our way into August," said Croft.

	"I can," the Ken Pilot declared.

	"I'm asking you to trust me," said Croft. He turned  to the 
Whisperer. "Trust me, like the time I saved your life from that Slurian 
prisoner of war camp."

	"You didn't save my life, it was John who did," said the 
Whisperer.

	"How quickly they forget," said Croft. He turned to Annie. 
"Annie, the other Annie, always trusted me."

	"No she didn't," said the Ken Pilot, with a disgusted look on his 
face. "Get out of the pilot's seat."

	"No," said Annie. "We have to put our personal feelings of 
revenge aside for the moment. We get rid of Karn, but we also should 
get rid of the Imperium. It's corrupted the Graftonites and we need to 
eliminate it too. We'll give Croft's plan a little time." She stared at 
the Ken Pilot, who stared back at her.

	They stared at her. She stared back. Reluctantly, they nodded.

	"All right," said the Ken Pilot finally. "Just a little."

	"So where are we going?" Nimrod asked.

	"The Imperium," said Croft.

	"The Imperium?" Nimrod looked incredulous.

	"The real Imperium," said Croft.

	



Chapter 9:    Unlikely Allies



	The Standard Imperium.

	When Karn had taken over the Imperium, a group of officers 
refused to accept his authority. For tactical reasons, Karn had 
permitted this small section of the Imperium to go their own way. They 
retained the name of the Standard Imperium; as a military force, 
however, they were no match for Karn's Imperium.

	Still, they had over 100 ships in their fleet, and every little 
bit helped.

	As they approached Standard Imperium space, however, they noticed 
they were being followed. By one of the Imperium's newest fast attack 
destroyers. They were closing in.

	Croft set the engines to maximum, but knew he couldn't outrun the 
ship. 

	"Attention scoutship," came a deep voice over the comm. "Power 
down your engines and prepare to be boarded."
	"Do you think they know who we are?" the Ken Pilot asked.

	"Is there ah, some problem?" said Croft, keeping an eye on the 
sensors to watch the approaching destroyer. Suddenly, he noticed 
another blip, this one more encouraging.

	"We have orders to apprehend a criminal named Clifford Croft," 
said the voice.

	"I think they know who we are," said Annie.

	"They'll be in firing range in a minute," said the Ken Pilot. "I 
better take the controls-"
	"Wait," said Croft, holding up a hand. The blip on his sensors 
grew bigger. He pressed the ident button. It was a battlecruiser.

	A battlecruiser of the Standard Imperium.

	"Attention Imperium battlecruiser," said Croft. "This is 
Scoutship AX4294. I have an urgent message for General Can Erland."

	"Belay that," said the voice from the fast attack destroyer. 
"These are our prisoners." 
	The holoimage of the Standard Imperium bridge appeared on Croft's 
viewer, and presumably the destroyer's as well. "On what authority?"
	"On the authority of the Imperium," said the Destroyer Captain. 
His holoimage suddenly appeared as well. He had a big, steely jaw.

	"We only recognize the Standard Imperium here," said the captain 
of the battlecruiser. "You are intruding in Standard Imperium space."

	"We do not recognize the Standard Imperium," said the Destroyer 
Captain.

	The Battlecruiser Captain waved his hand to his weapons officer. 
"Look at my gunports. Perhaps you will recognize those?"

	It only took the Destroyer Captain a moment to think about it. A 
destroyer was no match for a battle cruiser.

	"We come in peace," said the Destroyer Captain.

	"Then you should leave the same way," said the Battlecruiser 
Captain.

	The image of the Destroyer Captain faded. In moments, the 
destroyer turned the other way.

	"You must be Clifford Croft, I presume," said the Captain of the 
battlecruiser.

	"Yes," said Croft.

	"Do you always come with trouble?"
	"Mostly," said Croft.



	A few hours later Croft was in the office of General Can Erland, 
the ruler of the Standard Imperium.

	"We were shocked to see the holobroadcast," said Erland. 
"Naturally, we suspected foul play from the beginning, which was part 
of the reason why we didn't join Karn's Imperium."

	"Great," said Croft. "Then we can count on your support."

	"No," said Erland.

	"No?" said Croft, as if it were a word he hadn't heard before.

	"We don't have the power to stand up to the Imperium. They have 
over 900 ships. We have only 100."

	"We are getting allies to join us-"

	"A good number of your allies have been recently arrested, from 
what I hear," said Erland.

	"We are getting more," said Croft bluntly. "More ships are 
joining us every day. Word of Karn's treachery has spread throughout 
the entire fleet."

	"And when you have a sizable force, we will consider joining 
forces," said Erland.

	"Your help is crucial now, not when we have a sizable force," 
said Croft.

	"I'm sorry, I really am, but I can't help you," said Erland.

	Suddenly another man entered the room. It was former Admiral 
Myster Harkness, one of the War Admiral's key deputies, and the former 
head of the Standard Imperium.

	"Myster? I didn't know you were in the building," said Erland.

	"The heralds are taking the day off," said Harkness. "Croft, 
how're you doing?"
	"Fine, Admiral," said Croft.

	"I saw the holo. Disgraceful what he did to Norm, simply 
disgraceful," said Harkness.

	"Yes sir," said Harkness.

	"You're going to kill him, right?"

	"You mean Karn?" Croft asked.
	"Yes," said Harkness.

	"That's the plan, sir," said Croft grimly.

	Harkness turned to Erland. "Are we going to give this fine 
gentleman the help he deserves?"
	"I was just explaining that we can't risk it right now-"

	"I seem to remember taking a certain risk when I stood up to Karn 
and created this little government of ours," said Harkness.

	"They don't have the forces to oppose Karn yet. When the time is 
right-"
	Harkness waved a dismissive hand. "Bureaucratese talk. I almost 
can't believe I turned over the Standard Imperium to you."

	"Myster, I don't think that's an appropriate way to address me-"

	"I know, I know," said Harkness. "Well, we can at least give them 
a safe escort out of Standard Imperium space, right?" He stared hard at 
Erland.

	Erland paused uncomfortably. "Well, I suppose-"

	"We haven't yet agreed to turn the Standard Imperium over to 
Karn, have we?" Harkness asked. "If we had, I haven't gotten a bulletin 
about it."
	"No, of course not," said Erland, in a hard tone. Harkness had 
finally managed to offend him.
	"Then it's settled," said Harkness. He turned to Croft. "Good to 
see you, Croft. Just like old times."

	"Yeah," said Croft.



	Later, back on the scoutship, Croft spoke to the holoimage of 
Steven Quick.

	Quick listened to Croft's obfuscations for only a short time 
before cutting him off.

	"So they agreed to help... when we no longer need help?" said 
Quick.

	"Pretty much."

	"Perhaps I should have sent someone else," said Quick.

	"Thanks, boss."

	Quick paused, staring in the distance. "No, given your ties to 
the previous regime, you were probably the best choice to send to 
them."

	"I'd hate to think you were second guessing yourself," said 
Croft.

	Quick stared sharply at Croft. "I have another mission for you. 
One of Karn's regional commanders, Admiral William Jesters, has 
indicated that he might join our fight. He commands an entire sector 
fleet."
	"Sounds great," said Croft.

	"But he wants to meet personally with one of our senior 
representatives to discuss it."
	"Why personally?"
	"I don't know," said Quick.

	"Sounds like a trap," said Croft.

	"Yes," said Quick. "Which is why you are perfect for the job."

	"Because I'm good at getting out of traps, or because after my 
disappointing performance with the Standard Imperium you want to be rid 
of me?"
	"I'm not really sure," said Quick. "A little of both, I think."
	"It's good to know that you haven't lost your sense of humor," 
said Croft.

	Quick told him what he had managed to figure out about Admiral 
Jesters and his motivations. Croft's eyebrows raised significantly. 
"Are you sure?" he asked.

	"I think so. Go talk to him, and be quick about it, Croft," said 
Quick. "We have to be ready to move soon."

	"Soon? Have enough of the Imperium's fleet turned to our side?"

	Quick's image faded.



*****

	The holorecording played in the throne room silently, without 
sound, over and over. Even in silence it was too much for Karn, who 
pressed the stop button.

	"How did they get such a recording? Where did it come from?"
	"I don't know," said Borscht.

	"That conversation was between you and me. I know I didn't make 
any recording of it."
	"Neither did I," said Borscht. "Our communication must have been 
monitored by a third party."
	"Really?" said Karn. "And this third party waited 20 years to 
release this recording?"

	"It would appear that way," said Borscht.

	"I think you made this recording," said Karn. "You made it to use 
against me, if you ever needed to."

	"Congratulations," said Borscht.

	"For what?" said Karn.

	"For figuring out the truth, even a small part of it."
	Karn looked surprised. "Would you like to know what else I've 
figured out?"

	"Definitely," said Borscht.

	Karn pressed a button. Four black uniformed Graftonite guards 
entered the room.

	"That given the public knowledge of this recording, your presence 
is a liability."

	Borscht looked at the guards. "Remarkable. Two insights in one 
day."
	"What do you mean?"
	"I was thinking much the same thing," said Borscht.

	Suddenly, the room was filled with screams.







Chapter 10:  The Fall of the Unstandard Imperium



	"I thought we were going to August," said the Ken Pilot, as Croft 
prepared to land the ship on the planet Tender. 

	"We are going to August," Croft said.
	"This doesn't look like August to me," said the Ken Pilot.

	"It's all part of the plan," Croft insisted. Perhaps if he kept 
them focused on the broad outlines of the plan-

	"I'm getting tired of this plan," the Ken Pilot declared.

	"So am I," said Annie Oakley. "Clifford, you have to promise us 
that after this stop, we go to August."

	"Uhhhh....." Croft was suddenly aware he was in a cockpit with 
four very dangerous Graftonite gunmen. He noticed more than one hand 
drifting towards a holstered blaster.
	"Clifford," said Annie.

	"All right," Croft lied.



	When the ship landed on Tender, Croft nervously noted the 
presence of soldiers around the ship. They had been assured a safe 
passage but they were in Imperium space now, and one never knew...

	After being searched for weapons, Croft was lead from his ship to 
another ship on the same landing field. A battleship. Inside Croft was 
taken to the quarters of the regional commander for this sector of 
space, Admiral William Jesters. This was one of Karn's appointees; 
Croft had never heard of him.

	"So they sent you," said Jesters, looking at Croft.

	"Yes, they did," said Croft, trying not to show how nervous he 
felt. It would be very, very easy to turn him over to Preventive 
Security in an instant.

	"I'm taking quite a risk meeting you," said Jesters.

	That made Croft feel more relaxed. He hadn't really considered 
the risk the other way.

	"You said you wanted to meet in person," said Croft.

	"Yes," said Jesters. "What I have to say is not suitable for a 
holotransmission."

	"What do you have to say?'

	"My fleet and I are ready to join your resistance movement," said 
Jesters.

	"That's a nice thing to say," said Croft.

	"We just want to be sure we're in a partnership," said Jesters.

	"What kind of partnership?" Croft asked.
	"When we help you overthrow the Imperium, you leave me to govern 
my area of space independently," said Admiral Jesters.

	"You mean, your own little dictatorship," said Croft.

	"Dictatorship is such a harsh word," said Jesters.

	"How about, 'One Voter Democracy'?" Croft asked.

	"I was warned about your inappropriate humor," said Jesters.

	"With a name like yours, I'm surprised you don't have some of 
your own," said Croft. "As it happens, I was also told a little about 
you."

	"Really?" said Jesters.

	"Really," said Croft. "It's been noted that you have a tendency 
to act more autonomously than Karn's other admirals."

	"Do I?"

	"You do," said Croft.

	"Perhaps that's why I've chosen to join with you," said Jesters.

	"Perhaps," said Croft. "I've also done a little more digging and 
discovered that a certain percentage of the funding for your fleet has 
disappeared."

	"Really?" said Jesters.

	"Really," said Croft. "So perhaps you can tell me where the money 
is going, and/or who is really backing you."

	"Backing me?" Jesters asked.

	"Repeating the words I say don't make for the greatest 
conversation," said Croft.

	Suddenly a holoimage appeared in the room. Croft immediately 
recognized him.

	It was the Terrible Thinker. He had those same silvery eyes as 
Steven Quick; his face was similar; but his expressions were rarely the 
same. Only in a very dark room could the two be confused with each 
other.

	The Terrible Thinker was doing something most unusual. He was 
slowly clapping. He even had a small smile planted on his lips.

	"Most impressive, Mr. Croft, most impressive," he said, as the 
clapping slowly came to a halt.

	"Well, I wasn't exactly the one who figured it out," said Croft.

	"No, of course you weren't," said the Terrible Thinker. "My 
brother and I each admire our own handiwork."

	"I don't think the word admire is the one Quick would use," said 
Croft. "Perhaps recognize is the better word."

	"You quibble over semantics," said the Terrible Thinker. "Do you 
want the support of this fleet, or don't you?"

	"So you control Jesters' fleet," said Croft.

	"Oh, you are insulting the Admiral," said the Thinker, rolling 
his eyes. "The Admiral controls his own fleet, of course. I merely have 
some influence with him, as a trusted advisor."
	"A trusted advisor," said Croft, finding it hard to believe.

	"I was the one who persuaded him that an alliance with you might 
be good for us both," said the Terrible Thinker.

	"Really," said Croft. "How visionary of you." He paused. "You 
know, when the Emperor first tried to get me to dismantle the Freedom 
League, he tried to give me incentive to do so by saying that you were 
behind the Freedom League. I figured he was lying just to motivate me. 
What irony in that his lie turned out to be true."

	"I am not behind the Freedom League," said the Terrible Thinker. 
"But I can be a powerful ally. The admiral commands 80 ships."
	"So you'll join us in the fight against the Imperium."

	"By all means," said the Thinker. "But once the battle is won, we 
go our separate ways."

	"Let me see if I can translate that," said Croft. "That means you 
want  to be left free to rule your own little dictatorship here 
unimpeded."

	"You always manage to twist things in unpleasant ways," said the 
Thinker.

	"Unpleasant is your department. We have yet another irony, as 
you, the originator of the most convoluted plots, dare accuse me of 
twisting," said Croft. "This is almost more irony than I can stand."

	"Let's cut through the theatrics. Do we have a deal?" said the 
Thinker.

	Croft paused, considering. Then he said, "No."

	The Thinker managed to look surprised. "You are not being wise."

	"We are fighting a dictatorship. We can't fight one while 
promising to write off an entire sector to another dictatorship. It 
wouldn't look good for public relations, you know," said Croft dryly.

	"It might not be good for public relations, but wouldn't it be 
good for having a realistic chance of success?" said the Thinker. "I 
know you are gathering your forces to attack."

	"Most of our allies in the military were rounded up," said Croft.

	"I repeat: I know you are gathering your forces to attack," said 
the Thinker.

	"All right," said Croft. "Say we are. If you don't join forces 
with us, and we fail, I'm going to make sure that Karn gets a special 
message about you and your friend here."

	"That presumes you leave this room alive," said the Thinker.

	"Please," said Croft. "You don't think we didn't have this 
figured out before I stepped through the door?"
	The Thinker paused, then nodded. "All right. We will join forces, 
without conditions. We will deal with longstanding disagreements... 
afterwards"

	"How far-sighted of you."
	"Yes," the Thinker smiled. "Yes, it is."

	

*****

	The Thinker was in a dark room with another man, a man in an 
admiral's uniform. "The attack against the Imperium will be launched 
soon," said the Thinker, his silvery eyes staring far afield.

	"I should be there," said the Admiral. "I can ensure victory."

	"No," said the Terrible Thinker. "Your role will come afterward. 
I see the Freedom League can prevail without your assistance."

	"How can you tell?"

	"Because I know Steven Quick," said the Thinker. "Our best time 
to strike will be afterwards, when his forces are weakened by the 
battle with Karn's forces."

	"I cannot wait for that time to come," said the Admiral.

	"I know," said the Thinker. Everything was proceeding according 
to his plan.





*****



	"The fleet is gathering in the Corridor system," said the 
holoimage of Quick. 

	"What fleet?" Croft. 

	"We have been building our own ships," said Quick.

	"What? How?"
	"You made some of the arrangements yourself," said Quick.

	"I did?"

	"When you persuaded the Association of Independent Shippers to 
smuggle for us."

	"Really? What were they smuggling?" Croft asked.
	"Ships," said Quick. "We've been converting passenger vessels 
into warships for some time."

	"The shippers were smuggling ships? Now that's clever!" said 
Croft. "Wait a minute. Who is manning these ships?"

	"A lot of retired ex-military, who are not very happy with what 
Karn did to the War Admiral." said Quick. "You may know some of them."

	"But are they up to taking on a fully militarized fleet?"

	"We will see," said Quick.

	"Doesn't this Screen fellow working for Karn have the ability to 
see the future? Won't he know what you're doing?"

	"His ability is limited," Quick reminded him. "If it were 
unlimited, we'd all be learning how to speak Insect about now. If you 
want to see how the battle goes, come to the Corridor system and see 
firsthand."
	"I'd love to, but if I don't go to August, my passengers will 
likely shoot me," Croft said.

	"I take it you are going to take care of Karn," Quick said.

	"Pretty much," said Croft.

	"Be careful," said Quick.



*****



	An aide entered the throne room. "Sir, we have reports of an 
insurgent fleet massing in the area of the corridor system."

	"So it begins," said Emperor Karn.

	"Sir?"
	"Dispatch the fleet there," said Karn.

	"How many ships?"
	"All of them," said Karn. He appeared to be getting a far away 
look, as if he were trying to determine the outcome in advance.



*****

	The Freedom League's fleet gathered in the Corridor system. There 
were 200 ships in all, commanded by former Admiral Kearse, who had been 
one of War Admiral North's right hand men on the Command Carrier Glory, 
nearly a hundred and fifty years ago. These 200 ships were joined by 
200 ships that had defected from Karn's fleet, and 80 more from Admiral 
Jesters, the Terrible Thinker's man. The rest of the Imperium ships, 
either didn't believe the broadcast showing that Karn was a murderer 
and a traitor, or, more likely, they simply didn't care.

	Quick was present in person this time, on the Battleship Blue 
Silver. He studied the tactical display with Admiral Kearse.

	Kearse was shaking his head. "I'm concerned. They're sending the 
entire fleet against us. We have 480 ships against over 600 ships from 
the Imperium. And 200 of our ships are converted merchant ships. They 
have better weaponry, more training, and more experience."

	"More recent experience," said Quick, correcting him. "Some of 
the veterans serving under you have served for hundreds of years in the 
League and the Directorate."

	"This is going to be a tough battle to win," said Kearse.

	"Just do the best you can," said Quick, his eyes shining 
brightly.

	"Sir, we've detected the Imperium on the outskirts of the 
system," said the sensor officer.

	"Prepare to deploy the fleet," said Admiral Kearse formally.

	The battle was about to begin.

	

*****

	With most of the Imperium's fleet in the Corridor system, there 
were only a few smaller ships and fighters protecting August. With the 
Ken Pilot at the controls, the scoutship easily evaded their pursuers, 
and sped downwards to the planet.

	"Where are you going to land?" Croft asked, as he was pushed back 
against his chair's padding by the g forces.

	"The palace," said the Ken Pilot.

	"That's not very subtle," said Croft.

	"That's where Karn is," said the Ken Pilot. "Why should we make a 
long walk for ourselves?"
	"You think you're just going to land, go in there, and kill him?"
	The Ken Pilot turned to glance at the others. They nodded. 
"Pretty much," said the Ken Pilot

	"He's bound to have guards, a lot of them."

	"Then a lot of guards are about to die," said Annie grimly.



*****

	The two fleets engaged. Predictably, the better armed Imperium 
fleet started out with an advantage, pounding the Freedom League fleet. 
But seconds after the battle engaged, 50 of the Imperium's ships turned 
and started fighting on the other Imperium ships. 

	This had the effect of knocking the Imperium fleet out of 
formation as they had to turn and face this new threat. 50 ships 
weren't an enormous number, but when located in the middle and behind 
other ships where they can target vulnerable areas quickly, they can 
make quite an impact when they make a first strike.

	Which they did.

	A lot of confusion was created as the Imperium tried to figure 
out which ships had switched sides. The Imperium ships started to turn 
on each other; meanwhile, the Freedom League ships pressed their 
advantage.

	Quick watched on the screen. All ships allied with the Freedom 
League had a special transponder, set to a frequency the Imperium 
wasn't aware of. They knew exactly who their friends were.

	The battle raged for some time. After a time, however, the 
Imperium forces reformed and identified most of the rebelling ships. As 
the Imperium reformed into a new battle group, the odds were evened, 
somewhat; about 400 ships against 400 other ships. Still, the Imperium 
had an advantage, as the Freedom League armed merchant ships couldn't 
compete against battle cruisers.

	

*****

	The Whisper's blaster fired four times even as the hatch opened. 
They had landed in Victory Plaza, just outside the palace. Four dead 
bodies of guards lay on the ground. As more came into view in the 
distance the guns of his brothers and Annie Oakley rang out, If they 
were mere dots on the horizon they could hit them.

	"Shall we go?" said Annie Oakley coldly.

	They dispatched the guards at the main entrance and made their 
way into the Palace. Croft could hardly believe a small number of 
Graftonites, even highly trained ones, could do this. But then he 
remembered it had all happened before. A small team of Graftonites lead 
by a criminal named Mo Quandry had broken into the palace before. At 
the time Croft's job had been to stop him; but this time he was on the 
side of the Graftonites.

	Croft and Preston had their guns out but never had the 
opportunity to fire. With their fast Graftonite reflexes, Annie or one 
of the Silencer's brothers always fired first. 

	They made their way into the capital. They had gotten into a 
firefight in one of the corridors and had to pause, because their 
opponents were hiding behind corners.

	"Remember, I get to kill him," Annie reminded them, as she shot a 
guard who momentarily peered from behind a corner.

	"I'm killing him," said the Whisperer, firing two shots in rapid 
succession. The sounds of two thumps quickly followed.

	"You're mistaken; I'm killing Karn," said the Ken Pilot.

	"We can all shoot him," said Nimrod.

	"You were always the diplomat," said the Whisperer.

	"Don't be insulting," said Nimrod, shooting a guard.

	"I want to kill him," said Croft. "He shot my friend, the War 
Admiral."

	"You don't get a vote," said the Whisperer.

	Suddenly a new wave of guards appeared and started firing.

	"Let's handle this subject when we actually get to him, all 
right," said Croft, ducking for cover.



*****

	The Freedom League was slowly losing. 

	The Imperium, recovering from its initial loses, was pressing its 
military superiority, and slowly driving the Freedom League ships back. 
The Imperium ships who had defected to their side were holding their 
own, but the merchant ships simply couldn't stand toe to toe against 
battle cruisers and battleships.

	Admiral Kearse was attempting to manage the battle as best he 
could, studying the holodisplay, and shouting out orders. But at one 
point he turned, uncalled for, and looked at Quick.

	Quick looked at him. Kearse shook his head.

	Quick nodded, and pressed a button on his wrist comm.



	A few minutes later, a hundred new ships appeared, in the rear of 
the Imperium's forces. These were also Imperium Ships, though not 
quite; this was the fleet of the Standard Imperium. The holoimage of 
Admiral Harkness appeared on the bridge.

	"I understood General Erland said he wouldn't be sending any 
ships," said Quick.

 	"He did say that," said Admiral Harkness. "He's free to say 
anything he likes."

	"It's good to have you here," said Quick.

	"Let's see what we can do about ending this quickly," said 
Harkness.

	This second, unexpected attack from the rear once again forced 
the Imperium into disarray. Only this time there were more enemy ships 
to face and these ships were undamaged, unlike many of the Imperium 
ships. 

	The Standard Imperium pressed the Imperium ships from one side 
while the Freedom League pressed them from the other. Very quickly it 
became clear that the Imperium, not the Freedom League, was starting to 
lose the fight.

	In less than an hour it became clear to everyone; and the 
remaining Imperium ships fled, or surrendered. The Freedom League, with 
a not overwhelming number of ships remaining, had won the battle, and 
the war.



*****

	They fought their way to the entrance to the throne room. 
Standing outside the throne room, however, were about a dozen black 
clad guards. Graftonite guards.

	"Surrender. We outnumber you three to one," said their leader 
coldly. Evidently he was only counting Annie, the Whisperer, the Ken 
Pilot, and Nimrod, and not Croft and Preston. Well, why should he? They 
were Graftonites.

	His remarks only enraged Annie. "That's the way you work, isn't 
it? Three to one, five to one, ten to one, whatever it takes?"
	"A greater power had to yield to a lesser one," said the 
Graftonite leader.

	"Do you know I am?" said Annie.

	"Do you know who we are?" the Graftonite leader said. "We're Gun 
Olympic medal winners-"

	"My name is Annie Oakley," said Annie. "Five time medal winner in 
trick shooting, gold. With me are the Silencer's brothers--how many 
gold medals have you won?"
	"Seven," said the Ken Pilot.

	"19," said the Whisperer.

	"None," said Nimrod. But judging him by the number of gold medals 
he won would be a big mistake.

	The leader wasn't impressed. "Hand over your weapons, or die."

	Annie paused. "All right," she said. She raised her pearl handled 
blasters, and twirled them in the air.

	And then she moved so fast that Croft could barely see. She 
grabbed them as they came down and it seemed as if they were firing 
even before they were fully in her hands. The Ken Pilot, the Whisperer, 
and Nimrod were firing too.

	When the smoke cleared the black clad Graftonite were all down. 
Neither Annie or the Silencer's brothers had a scratch on any of them.

	Croft was wide eyed. 

	"Come on," said Annie. They entered the throne room.

	Emperor Karn was there, waiting for them. To Croft's surprise, he 
was all alone. He even smiled when they entered.

	"Greetings," he said.

	"You're dead," said Annie, pointing her blaster at him. "Do you 
want to know why?"

	"Not really," said Karn. He looked at Croft. "I might say I was 
disappointed, but that would imply that I was surprised."

	"So this doesn't surprise you," said Croft. "You expected us to 
come here and execute you? Good planning!"

	Karn smiled. "You are indeed resourceful. It is a pity that we 
could not work together."

	"I'm very picky about who I work with," said Croft, getting an 
odd expression on his face. Something wasn't right here.

	"Now it's time for you to die," said Karn.

	He stood up, and gave a shrill scream, and suddenly they were hit 
with waves and waves of fear. It drove them to their knees.

	"You will die now, in one of the most unpleasant ways possible," 
said Karn, smiling. "From your own fear."
	Annie, struggling to tune out the fear, managed to raise her 
blaster and fire. The blast hit Karn, and he laughed.

	"Do you think a pitiful blaster shot can harm me?"

	Croft grabbed his head as he felt the fear pound at him. He felt 
like his head was about to explode.

	Then the Whisperer managed to raise his blaster and he fired. 
Karn winced, but managed to quickly smile again.

	Then the Ken Pilot managed to fire, and the form of Karn 
flickered.

	Then Nimrod, on the ground but still grasping his weapon, managed 
to fire. Karn screamed and suddenly changed form.

	Into a Screen.

	Despite the agony, they all fired again and again.

	The Screen hissed, and then started to moan.

	They kept firing, and firing again.

	The Screen gave a loud yell, and suddenly the curtain of fear was 
reduced.

	They got up, and kept firing. Croft and Preston started firing as 
well, continuous shots. 

	Now it was the Screen who was on his knees, screaming and 
screeching.

	They concentrated their shots on his head; in a few seconds, it 
exploded.

	The fear lifted completely; the headless body fell to the ground.

	"You're right about one thing," said Croft, looking at the body. 
"A single pitiful blaster shot can't harm you. But a whole lot of 
pitiful blaster shots, well, that's something else entirely."

	"Is this... creature Karn?" said Annie, looking a little 
confused.

	"No," said Croft. "But if he was posing as Karn, chances are 
there won't be much left of Karn to find."

	"Ooooh," said Annie. The Whisperer, the Ken Pilot, and Nimrod 
looked similarly disappointed.

	"He was the real mastermind behind the empire. He was the one who 
helped the Insects invade the League," said Croft. "You did a good 
thing killing him."

	"Yeah, all right," said Annie. She had already lost interest. She 
had only wanted to kill Karn.

	They made their way out of the capital. The smarter guards didn't 
oppose their exit.

	In a few hours it was all over, and a few hours after that the 
first ships of the Freedom League arrived in orbit.



*****



	"There's one thing I still don't understand," said Croft.

	"I am never too busy to drop all my work to explain the mysteries 
of the galaxies to you," said the holoimage of Quick.

	"This Screen could see into the future, right?" said Croft.

	"To a certain extent."

	"Then why couldn't he foresee that his fleet would be defeated at 
Corridor?" Croft said.

	"His ability was limited," said Quick. "He probably foresaw that 
he had the best chance by gathering his forces all in one place. But 
while he was able to foresee a number of defections from the Imperial 
Fleet, he couldn't foresee all of them. Apparently he couldn't even 
tell where our converted merchant ships were located as we were 
building up. Maybe he could only see futures in places around him, as 
Mongo could."

	"Yes, Mongo," said Croft.

	"He's disappeared," said Quick. "There's been no sign of him."

	"Hm," said Croft. "So are we done?"
	"What do you mean?"

	"Done. No more Insects, Screen, Slurian dictatorships... we're 
all done?"

	"We can never be complacent," said Quick. "There are always new 
dangers to be faced."

	"Not by me," said Croft.	

	"I have a task that can use your special skills," said Quick.

	"Not this week!" said Croft. "Not interested."  

	"There's a lot of cleaning up to do," said Quick.

	"I don't do janitorial work," said Croft. 

	"You know what I mean," said Quick.

	"And you know where I am," said Croft. " On Pacifica. On 
vacation. A badly needed one. Can't you keep the galaxy running 
smoothly for just a week or two?"

	"All right," said Quick. "One week."

	His image faded.

	"What am I doing taking orders from him?" said Croft. "I don't 
even formally work for him."

	He looked around at his sparse cabin. The sparkly beach from 
outside his window and the sounds of waves beckoned to him.

	But suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

	"Go away," Croft suggested.

	The knock became more insistent.

	Croft sighed, and went to the door and opened it.

	Agent Elmer Banks was standing in the doorway, his blaster drawn 
and pointed at Croft. Agent Banks. His former "partner".

	"What is it with Pacifica and revenge?" said Croft. "It seems 
every time I come here for a vacation, someone always finds me to have 
some petty revenge."

	"Petty?" said Banks. "Do you know what they did to me?"

	"No," said Croft. "I don't know who you're referring to or what 
they did." He turned his back on Banks and casually sat down in a 
chair, one opposite the entrance to the bedroom.

	"Don't move so fast!" said Banks, his hand on the blaster, 
shaking slightly He moved to cover Croft, which put him with his back 
to the bedroom. "They arrested me!"

	"They did?" said Croft.

	"When you defected, they presumed that I was working with you, 
since I was assigned to watch you closely," said Banks.

	"Ah ha! You finally admit it, you were sent to watch me!" said 
Croft. "Well, this reunion is almost worth it, if only to finally hear 
that. The only thing I don't know is, were you working for General 
Magnuson, or General Zarucki?"

	"I was on special assignment from General Zarucki," said Banks. 
"I'm actually a Major in Preventive Security."

	"You could have fooled me," said Croft. "Wait a minute; you 
didn't fool me."

	"When you slipped away, I was arrested and interrogated," said 
Banks. "Do you know what that's like?"
	"Doesn't sound like much fun to me."

	"They kept at it, until the Freedom League took over, and I was 
freed."
	"Well, you should be glad the good guys won, then."

	"You ruined me," said Banks, his gun arm shaking again.

	"Wait a minute," said Croft. "You're blaming me for not letting 
you catch me?"

	"I lost my job, my classification, all because of you."

	"Because you were a lousy agent," Croft corrected him. "Perhaps 
you'd be better in another field. Have you ever considered social 
work?"

	"I'm a good agent!" Banks yelled.

	"You're a terrible agent," said Croft. "Take your powers of 
observation, for example."
	"What do you mean?" Banks asked.

	"When you came in, did you notice all the luggage around here?"

	Banks frowned looking around slightly. "So?"
	"When I moved to sit down, did you notice anything about how or 
where I sat down?"

	"There was a sofa," said Banks. "You sat down on it."

	Croft sighed. "You really are an amateur."

	"And you are going to die," said Banks, pointing his blaster more 
closely. "Do you have any last words?"
	"Yes," said Croft. "Just wound him, please."

	"What?"
	A blaster shot rang out, and Banks screamed, clutching his 
blaster hand as he dropped his blaster, which Croft scooped up.

	Annie Oakley, wearing a bathrobe and with her hair all wet, came 
out of the bedroom. "You wanted him alive?"
	"We'll turn him over to the authorities," said Croft. He reset 
the blaster to stun and shot Banks again, who was knocked unconscious.

	"You're soft," said Annie.

	"And sensitive, with feeee-lings" said Croft, sartirically 
stretching out the word as he gave her a kiss.









Part II  Return of the War Admiral



Chapter 11: The War Admiral Returns



	"No, that's a stupid idea." 

	Interim President Phil Beagan of the Provisional Alliance was in 
a historic session of lawmakers from human inhabited planets across the 
galaxy, all former members of the Imperium and the Standard Imperium. 
With the Imperium overthrown, a new form of government was needed. 
Democratic elections had just been held to elect planetary governments 
as well as members to select a uniting government to rule over them 
all, much as the League and the Alliance had for hundreds of years. The 
Standard Imperium, which hadn't been overthrown, had been nice enough 
to cede power gracefully, and elections had been held there as well.  
The only area where elections hadn't been held were the relatively few 
planets under the sway of the Terrible Thinker. He would have to be 
dealt with at some point. But that was not the task at hand.

	The delegates had elected Senator Beagan, as one of the leaders 
of the Freedom League, as its temporary President while they worked on 
a new galactic constitution and a new form of government. The only 
problem was that no one could agree on what the new government should 
be structured. If this session was history in the making, so were the 
15 sessions that had come before it--all without tangible results.

	That's why President Beagan was being more blunt than usual. 

	"What did you say?" said one of the politicians, Ted Opansey.

	"Stuuuu-pid," Beagan repeated, stretching out the word.

	"Not only is that insulting to me, but to the entire concept of 
the former League," said Opansey. 

	"Did I offend your concept? Why, I apologize," said Beagan 
sarcastically.

	Opansey said, "Why are you so against returning to the same 
governmental structure we had in the League?"

	"The League was weak," said Beagan. "You may have noticed that 
little war with the Insects that brought it down?"

	"But that was an aberration," said Opansey. "The League lasted 
for hundreds of years."

	"The League was weak," said Beagan. "It was their weakness and 
pacifist attitude that caused it to fall. Not only that, but it was 
corrupt."

	"So, you think a dictatorship is better?" said Opansey.

	"No, a dictatorship has its downsides as well," said Beagan. "A 
dictatorship may or may not be corrupt, but it is repressive."

	"What then do you propose?" said Opansey.

	"I propose we establish an alliance that is purely military," 
said Beagan. "Cut out all of the fat, the millions of bureaucrats, the 
subsidies, waste, and inefficiency."

	"But... who will administer private development?" said Opansey.

	"How about the private sector?" said Beagan.

	"But there are many domestic government functions-"

	"Which can be performed by planetary governments," said Beagan. 
"I was always amazed by the ability of bureaucrats on August to know 
what projects should be developed on New London and Tender and Karis 
better than the people of those planets. I have a better idea: let the 
governments on New London and Tender and Karis decide for themselves 
how much to spend on domestic projects."

	"But-"

	"The interplanetary government we are building should only do 
that which the planetary governments can't do for themselves, and that 
means interplanetary defense. A planet can't build a fleet on its own, 
but it can spend its own money on wasteful projects at least as well as 
August can."

	"But we need ground rules-"

	"The new treaty regime we put into place should establish a free 
trade zone, and leave the rest to the planetary governments," said 
Beagan. "Planets will have to compete with each other for labor and 
capital. Wasteful, inefficient and high taxing governments will drive 
people to more efficient, lower taxing planets."
	"But poorer planets-"

	"Will have to be more efficient and have lower taxes to attract 
business and capital, yes," said Beagan. "I have a detailed plan I will 
be transmitting to all your datapads within an hour. We will have a 
vote on it in two days."
	"Two days!' "That's not enough time!" "What about alternatives?" 
They were all speaking now.

	Beagan gestured for them to be quiet. "If a group of you can 
agree on alternatives within two days, we'll vote on that too."

	"What if your proposal doesn't pass?" said another 
representative. "We need more time-"

	"We've wasted three weeks already," said Beagan. "No, the problem 
is that we have too much time. If my proposal fails, I will disband 
this gathering and you can all go home."

	"You can't be serious!" "You wouldn't!"
	"I could, I would," Beagan earnestly assured them. "Gentlemen, 
thank you for your time."



	Beagan quickly stepped out of the chamber and made his way to 
another part of the Palace in Sarney Sarittenden. He looked around as 
he walked--he didn't expect to be here very long, as he doubted whether 
he would lead the new government. If there was a new government. 

	Two sentries were on guard outside the entrance to the 
President's office. He nodded to them as he entered. Inside he was 
totally unsurprised to find someone sitting in his chair.

	"That chair was always yours for the taking," said Beagan. "I 
just don't understand why you didn't take it."

	"I think you overestimate my appropriateness for this role," said 
Steven Quick, slowly getting up out of the chair and allowing Beagan to 
sit down. "I was last associated with a dictatorship, albeit a benign 
one. It's a democracy we have to build here."

	"You were last associated with the Freedom League, and before 
that the resistance to the Insects," said Beagan, sitting down in his 
chair. "By the way, I liked the constitution you drew up."

	"Thank you," said Quick, his silvery eyes blazing momentarily.

	"Do you really think this pressure tactic will work, that they 
will approve your idea?" Beagan asked.
	"I think so, yes," said Quick, looking thoughtful.

	"What if they come up with an alternative form of government, or 
vote your idea down?" Beagan asked.

	"A group of them couldn't agree on a seating chart in two days, 
much less their own form of government," said Quick scornfully. "As for 
voting your idea down, if the alternative is taking their expense 
accounts away and sending them to bed without a government, they'll do 
what politicians do to survive."

	"I hope you're reading the situation correctly," said Beagan. He 
paused. "Just one more question: why did you decide to call the new 
government the Standard Republic?"

	Quick shrugged. "I could have called it anything."

	"The Standard part suggests an association with the Standard 
Imperium," said Beagan. "I thought you were trying to avoid any 
association with dictatorships."

	"I was thinking more of the association with the efficient 
aspects of the old Imperium, to see if we could get some of that 
Imperial efficiency without the dictatorship," said Quick. "I'm sorry 
if the focus groups didn't like it."
	"Oh, I don't care what it's called, as long as it prevents any 
future Insect invasions," said Beagan.

	"It isn't the Insects you need to be worried about right now," 
said Quick, getting a far away look.

	"What do we have to worry about? And where have you been 
disappearing to?" said Beagan. 

	"I'm attending to the future," said Quick. He moved towards the 
door. "Keep in touch."

	"When I can reach you?" Beagan asked wryly, as Quick stepped out 
the door. He received no response.



	As Quick predicted, the representatives approved Beagan's plan, 
by wide margins. But first there was a huge outcry as some 
representatives protested Beagan's strong armed tactics, with many a 
politician giving outraged speeches before assembled holocameras on 
Victory Plaza outside Sarney Sarittenden. Then most of them quietly 
went inside the palace and voted for the new government.

	The next step was for their vote to be ratified by the newly 
elected governments of each respective planet. Under the plan, the 
ratification votes were to take place over the next two months, and 
then regular representatives would be elected and the Standard Republic 
would convene two months after that.

	In the meantime, the Interim government could run things, as long 
as there were no major crises....



	Only two days after the representatives voted to approve the new 
government, a very familiar face appeared on nearly every holoviewer on 
every inhabited planet.

	War Admiral Norman North.



	It was him, the same eyes, the same face, even the same black and 
blue and silver uniform of the original Standard Imperium. 

	"I have returned," were his first words. In the background all 
that could be seen was that he was on the bridge of a spaceship of some 
kind.

	"Yes, it's really me," said the War Admiral. "I have returned."

	He paused to let the words sink in, and then continued.

	"I've had a long and hard road to recovery. Only recently was a 
new medical technique discovered that could fully heal me," said the 
War Admiral, speaking in his trademark tone that the galaxy knew full 
well.

	"I am pleased that the assassins involved have been punished. 
Many members of the Freedom League fought valiantly to overthrown the 
tyrancy of the so-called Imperium," the War Admiral said.

	"But I am concerned by this movement to create a new civilian 
government. I fear it will be like the old League, full of corruption, 
weak, and leaving us open to attack. That is why I call on everyone to 
join my banner and reestablish the Standard Imperium."

	The War Admiral paused, and then added, "Under my rule, I ran a 
fair and honest government which protected the citizenry without 
repressing them." He leaned forward towards the holotransmitter. 
"People know what I stand for. Rise up and join me to rebuild our 
society. I call on all my old friends to join me. I, and my fleet, 
await your response."

	The message ended with a set of coordinates.

	

	"That's something you don't see every day," Preston remarked, 
staring at a still image of the War Admiral taken from the broadcast. 
He and Croft were lounging around in the offices of the former Imperial 
Intelligence, which before that had been called the Column. There was 
some talk about calling it the Column once again, but numerous 
subcommittees had yet to issue a report to numerous committees about 
this important issue.  

	Croft stared at the image of the War Admiral. "I have to admit 
that even I, supremely jaded, am mildly surprised."

	"I never expected him to return," said Preston. "I thought he was 
brain dead, or something."

	"He appears to have been healed, somehow," said Croft.

	"It sure took long enough," said Preston. "It's been twenty 
years."

	"That is a long time," Croft admitted. "But perhaps, if you're 
clinically brain dead, it takes that long."

	"So?" said Preston. "Are you going?"

	"Going where?" said Croft. 

	"He called on old friends to join him. His broadcast included a 
set of coordinates. Aren't you going?"

	Croft made a face. "I have to check with another friend first."



********



	"These are the coordinates," said the pilot of the long range 
shuttle, as the shuttle dropped out of lightspeed.

	Stacy Wren peered at the dots in the distance. They were billions 
of miles from any solar system, in the middle of space. 

	Gradually, the dots became ships. The fleet. War Admiral North's 
fleet. Where had he gotten a fleet from?

	It wasn't the Glory, the War Admiral's old ship, that the shuttle 
landed on, of course, but rather an almost anonymous battleship leading 
a moderately sized fleet in the middle of nowhere, here in the void 
between solar systems.

	As Wren got out of the shuttle she was almost startled to see the 
honor guard awaiting her, in their crisp black and blue and silver 
uniforms. They snapped to attention.

	"Thank you," said Wren, saluting in return. "But I had hoped for 
a more low key arrival."
	"The War Admiral awaits you in his quarters, Admiral Wren," said 
one of the soldiers.

	Thoughts raced through her mind as she was escorted through the 
ship. Her heart was beating rapidly as she stepped through the door, 
the door to-

	"Norm," she said, giving him a hug. He felt different, somehow, 
but then, it had been a long time, a very long time.

	"Stacy," he said, in that perfectly deep voice of his. He took a 
step back. "It's good to see you, after all these years."

	Wren had to work to keep back the tears. "Oh, just look at you!" 
she said, giving him another affectionate hug. Then she took a step 
back. "Where have you been? What happened? After you disappeared-"
	"I was healed," said the War Admiral. 

	"Healed? How? By whom? Wren asked.

	"By aliens," said the War Admiral.

	"Aliens?" said Wren. "What kind of aliens?"

	"Friends, like those who helped us resist the Insects," said the 
War Admiral.

	"Oh," said Wren, her face brightening.

	They talked for some time. The more they talked, however, the 
more Wren began to feel a little uneasy. There seemed to be a hardness 
in the War Admiral that hadn't been there before. And something else, 
something different.

	The War Admiral seemed to sense her unease. "Is something wrong, 
Stacy?"
	"No... I, no," said Wren.

	"Come on, you can tell me," said the War Admiral.

	"I just... I have this tremendous guilt, Norm," said Wren, 
changing the subject. She didn't know why she had said that--but then, 
she did feel guilty.

	"About what?" 

	"About leaving you," said Stacy. "I know I shouldn't have, 
but..."

	"It's all right," said the War Admiral. "I understand. Our 
relationship needed a break-"

	Something in Wren's face caused him to stop in midsentence. 
"What, Stacy?"

	"Norm, when I left you, you were a mental invalid," said Stacy. 
"There wasn't any relationship at the time. And if you were Norman 
North, you'd know that." She got up, and headed for the door. But it 
didn't open.

	"You're not going anywhere," said the War Admiral harshly.



********



	"Enthusiastic is hardly the word for it," said former Admiral 
Myster Harkness. He stared at the War Admiral's holoprojection. "I 
think the entire Standard Imperium, those of us who stayed loyal to 
you, would join you in an instant, if Erland gave the word."

	The War Admiral nodded sagely. "Perhaps you can persuade General 
Erland to pay me a visit."
	Harkness frowned. "Why don't you go to him yourself?"

	"I am under constant protection," said the War Admiral.

	"So?" Harkness said again. He didn't understand why the War 
Admiral couldn't be adequately protected on a visit to Vinland. 

	"Why don't you come here and we'll discuss it some more," said 
the War Admiral.

	Harkness frowned. Something wasn't quite right here. He couldn't 
put his finger on it, but...

	"Stacy would love to see you," said the War Admiral. The 
holoimage expanded to show Wren standing in the background.

	"Stacy, I should have expected to see you there," said Harkness, 
relaxing slightly.

	"Hello, Myster," said Wren.

	"Are they treating you well?" Harkness asked.

	Wren smiled. "Quite well, in fact."

	Well, if Wren were with the War Admiral, it was probably all 
right. "I'll come," said Harkness.

	"Very good," said the War Admiral.



******



	"What do you think?" said Croft, gesturing to the frozen 
holoimage of the War Admiral.

	"Most interesting," said Steven Quick, leaning back in his chair. 
He was a holoimage as well, broadcasting from an undisclosed location. 
Croft didn't even blink at the idea of showing a holoimage to a 
holoimage.

	"Are you going to pay him a visit?" said Croft. "He did issue an 
invitation."

	"Yes, he did... to a set of coordinates in an empty region of 
space," said Quick.

	"Maybe he's trying to be cautious," said Croft. "I hear he has 
some sort of fleet now."

	"Yes," said Quick, those eyes gleaming.

	"You think it's some sort of trap," said Croft.

	"Perhaps," said Quick. 

	"Perhaps?"

	"I'm in the habit of anticipating likely events before they 
occur, analyzing them fully, and having countermeasures fully planned 
before they happen," said Quick. "The reappearance of the War Admiral, 
however, was not a likely event that I had expected."
	"So you don't know what to think?" said Croft, not even believing 
the words as he said them.

	"If it were really the War Admiral, why would he not contact us 
privately, first, to pave his reintroduction into society?" said Quick.

	"Well, you are hard to get a hold of," said Croft.

	"But you aren't," said Quick. "Neither are many of the members of 
the former Standard Imperium. Yet I hear word that Myster Harkness is 
only now on his way to see the War Admiral."

	"Hmmm."

	"And then there is his puzzling opposition to the new 
government," said Quick.

	"Your new government," Croft pointed out. "And the War Admiral 
doesn't know you're behind it."
	"Still, this behavior is not typical of him," said Quick.
	"You mean, not typical before he got a bullet in the brain?" 
Croft inquired.

	"He may have changed," said Quick. "Or perhaps he's under alien 
influence."

	Croft groaned. "The Screen? Don't they ever give up?"

	"Not necessarily the Screen," said Quick. "It could be others."
	"You mean there are other nasty manipulative aliens out there?" 
Croft asked.

	"Yes," said Quick.

	"As opposed to the nice manipulative aliens you work with," said 
Croft sarcastically.

	"True," said Quick. He cast a glance to something that Croft 
could not see. His expression changed.

	"What's happened?" said Croft.

	"The War Admiral has just threatened to attack Karis."
	"What?" said Croft.

	"He promises to, in his own words, 'liberate it' within eight 
hours if they don't join his forces."

	"That doesn't seem like the War Admiral at all," said Croft.

	"No, it doesn't," Quick agreed.



	Former Admiral Myster Harkness was brought to the War Admiral's 
quarters. He shook hands with the War Admiral and stared him in the 
eye. It looked like his old friend and former commander.

	"It's good to see you again," said the War Admiral. "It brings 
back a lot of pleasant memories."
	"Not all of them pleasant, I hope," said Harkness, recalling 
their harrowing flight from the Insect fleet.

	"Oh, oh no," said the War Admiral, appearing slightly off 
balance. Odd. They talked for some time. Harkness, who was a quick 
judge of character, could see that while the man in the other chair 
resembled the War Admiral, he seemed different, somehow. He just 
couldn't put his finger on what way he was different. 

	After they had exchanged some smalltalk, Harkness said, "Admiral, 
now what is this talk of taking Karis all about?"

	"I am about to liberate Karis," said the War Admiral.

	"By military force?" said Harkness. "That's not your style."

	The War Admiral gave Harkness an odd look. "Not my style? I'm a 
military officer. I ran the Standard Imperium!"

	"Actually, at the end, you didn't really run it," said Harkness. 
"In fact, you showed very little interest in it, at the end." He gave 
the War Admiral an equally odd look in return. "Why are you doing 
this?"

	"I won't let the weasily politicians come in and ruin things for 
us again," said the War Admiral. "Our people need security, they need 
protection, they need order."
	"And only you can provide it," said Harkness.

	"Exactly," said the War Admiral.

	"Maybe this standard republic thing can work," said Harkness. 
"Give it a chance. There are some good people behind it."
	"Politicians," said the War Admiral contemptuously. "Weaklings 
and cowards."

	Harkness raised an eyebrow. "That's not what you told me at the 
awards ceremony when they promoted you to War Admiral."
	"Those were different times," said the War Admiral.

	"And different people," said Harkness. "I never was at your 
awards ceremony when they promoted you. Who are you?"

	The War Admiral stared at him. "You know me."

	"No, I don't think I do. You resemble someone I used to know, but 
you're not him." Harkness looked around. "I heard Stacy Wren was here. 
Is she around?"

	"Yes, she's around," said the War Admiral. Suddenly, his 
expression softened. "All right, I have something to tell you. I don't 
want this publicized, but... there were limitations to the healing 
process."
	"Limitations?" said Harkness.

	"Some of my memory was lost and could not be recovered," said the 
War Admiral. He leaned forward. "That's why I need you, and Stacy. To 
help me remember what I've lost."

	"I visited you after you were shot. I spoke with your doctors," 
said Harkness. "I clearly remember they said you had a loss of 
cognitive ability. I remember nothing about your memory being 
affected."

	"Well, it was," said the War Admiral.

	"If you're really War Admiral Norman North, you'll let me and 
Stacy Wren walk off this ship right now," said Harkness.

	"I am War Admiral Norman North," said the War Admiral. He checked 
his chrono. "And in just a few minutes, you'll see a demonstration 
which should prove that."

	The War Admiral pressed a button and the door to his quarters 
opened. Two guards stepped in.

	"The brig?" Harkness inquired, apparently without concern.

	"The bridge," said the War Admiral. "You're about to get a 
demonstration only I can provide."

	The War Admiral's fleet was at Karis.

	The War Admiral's fleet wasn't large--there were two battleships, 
seven cruisers, seven destroyers, a full carrier, and assorted support 
ships. But neither was the fleet in orbit around Karis, though it was 
still larger than the War Admiral's--four battleships, three battle 
cruisers, six cruisers, ten destroyers, and two carriers, roughly a two 
to one advantage in combat strength.

	"Have they responded to our ultimatum?" said the War Admiral, 
speaking casually to one of his officers as if he were asking about the 
weather.

	"No sir," said the captain of the battleship.

	"We'll have to demonstrate our resolve, then," said the War 
Admiral. "Battle stations."

	Klaxons sounded and secondary crewers raced to their stations. A 
tactical three dimensional map appeared showing the disposition of the 
Karis fleet and the War Admiral's forces. He took the entire 
arrangement in at a glance and started issuing orders at a rapid fire 
rate. In moments, his fleet was engaged in battle.

	Harkness watched in the background, guarded by two navy soldiers. 
The War Admiral had purposely given him an unobstructed view. He 
watched as the War Admiral quickly took in the situation, changing 
orders rapidly, executing stratagems, feints, and executing precise 
maneuvers as an experienced chess player would even on a complex and 
crowded field.

	And though the War Admiral's fleet was outnumbered two to one, 
there never was any doubt he would prevail. From the initial encounter 
at the onset, he was constantly repositioning his fleet to give him the 
maximum advantage, his strongest forces facing the enemies' weakest, 
constantly maneuvering to give his side the edge.

	Just as the War Admiral that Harkness formerly knew would. This 
War Admiral had all the legendary tactical ability of his old friend.

	But Harkness saw something else as well, something in the War 
Admiral's face. A hardness, a coldness he had never seen before, even 
in battle. And when an enemy ship was destroyed the War Admiral would 
smile, as if he enjoyed it. That, too, was different. 

	It was with the same smile that the War Admiral turned to him, at 
the end of the battle.

	"Now, do you see?" said the War Admiral.

	For his part, Harkness wasn't sure who he was seeing.



*******



	"That was very impressive," said Clifford Croft. He was 
conversing with the holoimage of War Admiral Norman North. "And you 
beat them with two to one odds against you, so I hear."
	"I've faced worse odds in the past," the War Admiral shrugged. 
But he didn't attempt to hide his pleasure at the praise. Croft noticed 
that Admiral Harkness and Stacy Wren were standing silently behind the 
War Admiral.

	"I was very startled to hear you were still alive, to put it 
mildly," said Croft. "Would you like to tell me what happened?"

	"Not now," said the War Admiral. "Not over an open channel."

	"Why don't I come to you?" said Croft.

	"An excellent idea," said the War Admiral. "I'm sending you 
updated coordinates, enclosed."
	"Stacy?" said Croft, raising his voice. "How are things there? 
Does it remind you of the old days on the Glory?"

	"There are some similarities," said Stacy, giving a small smile.

	"Why don't you come and see for yourself?" said Harkness.

	"I will," said Croft, giving a small smile. "I'll be seeing you 
soon. Croft out."

	As soon as the transmission stopped, so did Croft's smile. It was 
automatic; Croft, like a trained actor, was used to faking emotions, 
both for infiltration work as well as for trivial personal 
interactions.



******



	Two days later, Croft's long range transport docked inside the 
War Admiral's battleship. The fleet had grown since then, as word of 
the battle had gone far and wide. To many his startling performance had 
convinced people that the War Admiral really had returned.

	A group of armed naval soldiers, dressed in the uniforms of the 
old standard imperium, was waiting for his ship as he docked.

	An officer and an orderly approached him. 

	"Your weapon, please," said the officer.

	"I thought we're all friends here," said Croft.

	"Just a precaution," said the officer.

	Croft wordlessly handed over his blaster.

	The orderly started to pat Croft down. Croft took a step back.

	"This is standard procedure," said the officer.

	Croft took a step back, and gave an unhappy look.

	"The War Admiral is waiting to see you. Do you really want to 
keep him waiting?"

	Croft rolled his eyes, and took a step forward. The orderly 
continued the patdown, and removed two items from Croft's jacket. Then 
two more soldiers stepped forward with scanners, waving them up and 
down Croft's body. They demanded, and received, two more devices hidden 
on his person.

	"I'm an intelligence officer," said Croft. "It's my job to carry 
these things."

	"We understand," said the officer. "Now, please follow me."

	Croft was taken, under guard, to the War Admiral's quarters. 
Croft couldn't help but notice that the guards, four of them, entered 
the quarters with him. When they went inside, Croft felt himself taking 
a deep breath when he saw the War Admiral. It really did look like him.

	The War Admiral smiled and they shook hands. They matched stares. 
It really did look like him.

	"Clifford. So good to finally see you again," said the War 
Admiral.

	"Same here, War Admiral," said Croft. He gestured behind him. 
"What's with the guards?"

	"My security force is overprotective, I'm afraid," said the War 
Admiral. "They fear another attempt at assassination."

	"Surely not from me," said Croft.

	"Of course not," said the War Admiral. "Did they search you? I'm 
sorry about that, Clifford, but they search everyone."

	"I see," said Croft. 

	They made smalltalk for a while, until Croft turned to a subject 
that interested him. "Last I heard, you were in a hospital, incurable. 
What happened?"

	"I was rescued by some people who used advanced technology to 
cure me," said the War Admiral.

	"People?" said Croft. "Who in the Imperium has the technology to 
cure serious brain damage?"
	"Some of my allies managed to locate alien technology which has 
tremendous healing properties," said the War Admiral.

	"So these rescuers... they were aliens?" said Croft.

	The War Admiral stared at him. "No, Clifford, the technology was 
alien. My rescuers weren't." He didn't blink.

	"And here you are, as good as new," said Croft.

	"Better than new," said the War Admiral, with an odd sense of 
certainty.

	"Better," Croft repeated, as if that were an odd thing to say.

	"I'm here to set things right, to stifle this attempt to create 
another weak, aimless League."

	"To restore the Standard Imperium," Croft said.
	"Yes," said the War Admiral.

	"By force, if necessary," said Croft.

	"Regrettable, but yes, if necessary," said the War Admiral. "And 
I could really use your help."
	"It sounds to me like you have a lot of help already," said 
Croft. "Stacy Wren, Admiral Harkness... are they around here, some 
where?"

	"Yes," said the War Admiral.

	"Can you bring them out? I'd love to say hello."

	"Rest assured, you'll be joining them soon," said the War 
Admiral.

	"So what are your plans?" Croft asked.

	"To liberate the rest of the Imperium," said the War Admiral.

	"Like you ah, liberated Karis?" said Croft.

	"If necessary, yes," said the War Admiral.

	"What about giving people a choice?" said Croft. 

	"We never gave them a choice in the Imperium."
	"We never had to fight space battles to bring the Imperium 
about," said Croft. "The League was a mess, still recovering from the 
Insect invasion."

	"An invasion brought about by the weakness of the League," said 
the War Admiral. "I'm resolved not to let a similar government come to 
power."
	"I see," said Croft. "And where do I fit into this?"

	"I once had many friends, many allies," said the War Admiral. 
"You know a number of them. I want you to use your influence to help 
them come to my side."

	"I'm not a very influential guy," said Croft.

	"You undoubtedly have high level contacts in the intelligence 
services. That could be useful," said the War Admiral.

	Croft appeared to pause, considering. Then he gave a bright 
smile, as his arms lay on the chair's armrest. "All right. I'll help 
you."
	"Good," said the War Admiral. He looked down at a screen on his 
desk. His smile faded.

	"Something wrong?" said Croft.

	"You're lying," said the War Admiral. 

	"You'll have to be more specific," said Croft. "I'm a spy. I lie 
all the time."
	The War Admiral pressed a button. "It appears you've been lying 
throughout the conversation."

	"Did my poker face give me away?" Croft asked.

	"There's a highly sensitive lie detector built into your chair," 
said the War Admiral.

	Croft waved a hand dismissively. "I'm trained to defeat those."
	"Yes, when you know you're being tested," said the War Admiral, 
staring at him with a distinctly unfriendly expression. "You're not 
going to support me."

	"Are you sure your lie detector isn't malfunctioning?" said 
Croft.

	The War Admiral leaned forward and glared at him.

	Croft took a deep breath. "All right, so maybe I stretched a 
truth here and there." There was no sense in pretending any further.
	"Why will you not support me?" the War Admiral asked.

	"Because the real War Admiral North wouldn't conquer planets 
without provocation," said Croft.

	"I am the real Norman North!" North yelled. He pressed a button. 
"Bring him in."
	The door opened and Admiral Harkness, prodded by two additional 
guards, entered the room.

	"Croft," said Harkness. "You shouldn't have come."

	"You told me to come," said Croft.

	"Did I fool the great Clifford Croft?" said the War Admiral. "I 
used a composite hologram of the Admiral." He turned to Harkness. "You 
saw what I did in battle. Tell him."

	"He appears to possess all the speed and intellect of the War 
Admiral," said Harkness. "I saw him beat a numerically superior force."

	"With ease," said the War Admiral. "Can you deny who I am?"
	"I don't know what you are," said Croft. "But you aren't acting 
like the War Admiral. The War Admiral doesn't treat his friends this 
way. He doesn't lock them up, or trick them into coming to him."
	The War Admiral's face suddenly grew inscrutable. His tone 
softened. "That's why I need you."

	Croft raised an eyebrow.

	"I was healed, but... I'm not entirely myself," said the War 
Admiral. "I need people who knew me, people who can tell me when I'm 
acting differently, people to advise me."
	"You're acting differently," said Croft. "And I advise you to let 
us go."

	"No," said the War Admiral, shaking his head. "Take some time to 
think about it." He turned to his guards, and nodded. They gestured for 
Croft to get up. 

	"Really, Clifford. I need your help," said the War Admiral. 
"Think about it."

	"I'll give it some though," said Croft sincerely, making sure he 
made this statement only after he had stood up from the lie detector 
chair.

	Croft and Harkness were escorted, under guard, to the brig. They 
were led into a cell where Stacy Wren sat. Once the guards had 
reactivated the forcefield, they left the immediate area.

	"Croft!" said Wren. "So you've fallen into his trap too."

	"I guess so," said Croft, purposely trying to sound dejected as 
he eyed the departing guards. Not all of them had left; there was still 
one or two behind a control console in the hallway.

	"The War Admiral produced a phony image of me telling him to 
come, just as he did of you," said Harkness.

	"This definitely isn't like Norm," said Wren.

	"And yet I saw his performance with my own eyes," said Harkness. 
"I don't know anyone else who could do what he did." 
	"So maybe aliens did heal him," said Croft. "But maybe in the 
process they took control of his mind. The Meddler Capybara said there 
were many outside aliens with agendas. Maybe the Screen, the aliens who 
worked with General Karn, took him, cured him, and then brainwashed 
him."
	"That sounds like the likeliest explanation to me," said Wren.  
"Can he really do it? Take over the former Imperium?"

	"His fleet is small right now," said Croft. "But I'm sure others 
will flock to his cause. And with his battle skills, he'll probably be 
running things in a matter of weeks."
	"A return to the Standard Imperium."
	Croft shook his head. "More like Karn's Imperium. This War 
Admiral doesn't have the same temperment the one we knew did."
	"And we're stuck here," said Wren. "I feel so helpless. I wish we 
could do something." She looked at Croft, and then at the forcefield. 
"You're a trained infiltrator. But I suppose even a situation like this 
is too difficult to expect an escape from?"
	"Not really," said Croft. He made sure the guards weren't 
looking, and then started to remove his belt, and then his shoes.

	"What are you doing?" Harkness asked.

	"Just a little undressing," said Croft. "Get ready."
	"For what?" said Harkness.

	Croft casually tossed his belt into the forcefield. There was a 
crackle, and then the forcefield shorted out. "They don't make 
forcefields like they used to," said Croft. Even as he was speaking he 
was watching the guards, who started to rush to the cell. Croft tossed 
one of his shoes at the guards, and then the other; they exploded, 
sending the guards crashing against the walls.

	"Hurry!" said Croft, scooping up a fallen blaster as he ran, 
barefoot, out of the cell. A very surprised Stacy Wren and Admiral 
Harkness followed. It wasn't long before an alarm sounded. They ran 
into a crewman, who Croft shot.

	"Do you know where we're going?" said Harkness.

	Croft nodded. But after running for a few moments he entered what 
looked like a storeroom.

	"Uh, Croft, this looks like a dead end," said Harkness.

	"Watch the door," said Croft, as he reset his blaster to cutting 
mode. He started to burn a spot on the wall.

	In moments he had cut a hole large enough to crawl through. They 
did, to find themselves... in another storeroom.

	"How does this help?" Harkness asked.

	"Outside the door is the launch bay," said Croft. "Walk, don't 
run, just follow me."
	"How do you know where everything is?" Harkness asked.

	"Questions later."

	They entered the large launching bay. Fortunately, while there 
were crewmen milling about, most of the activity was in the area of the 
workbenches and the main entrances to the bay. If there had been anyone 
close by they might have thought it odd that Croft was walking around 
barefoot.

	Croft walked casually to his long ranged transport, showing not a 
care in the world. Wren and Harkness did likewise. As they entered the 
ship Croft ran to the cockpit; they followed.

	"How did you know we wouldn't be stopped?" Wren asked.

	"Most of the people on this ship don't know what we look like," 
said Croft, rapidly flipping switches as he activated the engines. He 
spoke with the certain knowledge from centuries of infiltrating. "It's 
a large ship and many people don't know each other. It's only if we 
look guilty that they'll show some reaction."	

	Suddenly they heard a shout in the bay.

	"Or if someone preps the engines for an unauthorized mission," 
Croft opined.

	The ship hummed with power and took off. In seconds they were out 
of the battleship.

	"They're locking on to us with weapons!" said Harkness.

	Croft turned a lever, and the ship accelerated faster than the 
speed of light.

	Wren was pushed back in her chair. "You plotted a course that 
quickly?"
	"No," said Croft. "At the moment, I simply thought anywhere was 
better than here. When we've gone some distance, we'll slow down and 
set a new course."
	"If we aren't pursued," said Harkness.

	"I think the War Admiral has bigger things on his mind," said 
Croft.

	"So is there time now for questions?" said Wren.

	Croft shrugged.

	"How did you come prepared to break out of that cell?" said Wren. 
"And don't tell me you always walk around with exploding shoes and 
belts that can short out force fields."
	"Well, actually-"
	"And how did you know the exact route to the launch bay?" Wren 
asked.

	"I studied the schematics of the ship before I came aboard. I 
figured you would be in the brig, and studied possible routes to the 
launch bay from there," said Croft.

	"What? Why did you-"
	"This trip was never about seeing the War Admiral," said Croft. 
"Oh, it was good to see him, to gather intelligence, but that was never 
the primary purpose."

	"What was the primary purpose?"
	"To rescue you," said Croft. "Don't you feel loved now?"

	Wren's mouth dropped open.

	"You're welcome," said Croft casually.	

	"How did you know?" said Harkness.

	"I recorded the War Admiral's transmission to me; both you and 
Stacy were in the background. I had a computer analysis done of your 
face; each of you were blinking exactly every two and a half seconds, 
like clockwork," said Croft. "A very poor forgery that would show up 
under any close examination, but perhaps the War Admiral didn't expect 
that."
	"Very smart, Croft," said Harkness.
	"I had a little help," said Croft modestly.

	"But where does that leave us now?"
	"Let me tap into the interstellar network and we'll see."
	The news was not good. Ships from all over the fleet were 
defecting to join the War Admiral's forces; and a few hours later they 
found out the War Admiral had launched another attack and taken 
Erratta.

	They participated in a three way holocall with Interim President 
Beagan, on August, and Steven Quick, from his typically undisclosed 
location.

	Quick listened to his report, taking it all in with his silvery 
eyes. 

	"Given the forces that are flocking to his banner and his natural 
military ability, I expect he'll take over most inhabited planets in 
three weeks," said Croft.

	"Fifteen days, actually," said Quick, getting that far away look.

	"Great, I'll mark it on my calendar," said Croft. "What are we 
going to do?"
	Quick's holoimage turned to President Beagan's. "Mr. President, 
you must muster all your forces at Greenfields. The War Admiral will 
strike there in five days."

	"Not August?" said Croft.

	"No, not August," said Quick.

	"How do you know that?" said Croft.

	Quick said nothing.

	"So you think we can beat him if we mass our forces at 
Greenfields?" President Beagan asked.

	"No," said Quick. "But you might slow him down a little."
	"That's hardly a winning strategy," said Beagan.

	"Our options are limited right now," said Quick.

	Beagan turned to Croft. "Why didn't you kill him when you had the 
chance?"
	"Are you talking about assassination?" Croft asked.

	"I'm talking about the survival of our freedom," said Beagan. "Do 
you really want to be crushed under another Imperium?"

	"No," said Croft. "Not like that last one. But the War Admiral's 
Standard Imperium wasn't so bad." He paused. "I won't deny that the 
thought didn't occur to me. But I came prepared for a rescue operation, 
not assassination. The War Admiral was heavily guarded. Once the alarm 
sounded during our escape, there was no practical way I could get to 
him. There is also the little matter about the difficulties of killing 
my former friend."

	"Your former friend," said Quick, as if that held special 
significance. "You mentioned that he had the same ability as the War 
Admiral we knew, but with a different temperment."

	"Yes," said Croft. "I think he was brainwashed by aliens who are 
controlling him. But then he said... something odd..." He paused, 
trying to remember. "He wanted our help, our help in telling him when 
he wasn't acting like himself."

	"Then he has provided us with the solution," said Quick, his 
silvery eyes blazing. "Some people are still doubtful that it is really 
him. We have to play up on that. Admirals Wren and Harkness must 
broadcast an account of how they were held captive, and how they 
believe it isn't the real War Admiral."

	"I'm not sure if it is or isn't him," said Harkness.

	"You must also keep your doubts on this subject to yourself," 
said Quick. "This is the only chance we have. If we fail...."

	"We have to spend another twenty years mounting a resistance?" 
Croft asked.

	"Something like that," said Quick.

	Croft groaned. He was tired of overthrowing governments. "All 
right. Do you want me to broadcast an account stating that he's an 
imposter as well, along with Stacy and Harkness?" Croft asked.

	"No," said Quick. "You're not...."
	"Respectable like the others?" Croft gave a smile. "Spies never 
get a break. We have feelings too-"

	"We're running out of time," Quick reminded him.

	"I'll get fleet moving," said Beagan. His image faded.

	Quick's image was still there. He looked very puzzled.

	"Something wrong?" Croft asked.

	"If he were merely brainwashed he wouldn't be asking for your 
help," said Quick. "He wouldn't need lessons on being himself."

	"What does that mean? That he really is an imposter?" Croft 
asked.

	"Possibly," said Quick. "I also find the timing of his return 
most striking, right when the new government was about to be formed. 
It's as if he were sitting out there, waiting for the right time to 
return."
	"The War Admiral is a master of strategy," said Croft.

	"Yes," said Quick. "But he isn't the only one." His image faded.

	Croft looked at Stacy Wren and Admiral Harkness. "Don't you like 
this plan? Aren't you excited to be a part of it?"

	



	Perhaps the testimony of Wren and Harkness helped fuel doubts 
about the War Admiral. But men and ships still flocked to his side. 
Beagan's provisional government couldn't compete with the raw charisma 
and history of the War Admiral. When the time came, five days later, 
for the fleet to mass at Greenfields, the odds were roughly even; half 
the fleet had joined with the War Admiral, while the other half had 
remained loyal to the Provisional Government. The loyalist fleet was 
commanded by an able veteran, Admiral Landry, but everyone knew that he 
was no match for the War Admiral. For his part Landry had served under 
the War Admiral, but like some in the fleet found the War Admiral's 
behavior perplexing, and the doubts stoked by Harkness and others had 
prompted him to side with the Provisional Government.

	Croft joined the fleet at Greenfields, but shortly before that 
had one last conversation with Steven Quick, enroute to Greenfields in 
a long range shuttle.

	"You know, August has been left defenseless," said Croft.

	"I know," said Quick.

	"The War Admiral could take it with a single frigate."

	"Irrelevant," said Quick, as if it were.
	"He may know that we're massing at Greenfields," said Croft. "I 
fear we may have some double agents in the fleet who are secretly loyal 
to him."

	"That's a possibility," said Quick.

	"Then why do you think he'll attack here?"

	"Because that's where you've massed your fleet," said Quick. 
"From your description of the War Admiral's behavior, he seems to act 
very atypically compared to his former self. He seems very concerned 
with proving himself, and actually enjoys challenging battles. That is 
why he'll come to Greenfields. He's more worried about losing an 
opportunity for a good battle than losing a battle."

	"Why would aliens controlling him allow him to do this?" said 
Croft.

	"An excellent question," said Quick. A screen nearby beeped. 
Quick raised an eyebrow.

	"What is it?"
	"I think you will have an answer to your question soon," said 
Quick.

	"Why not now?" said Croft.

	Quick pressed a button. "I'm arranging to have some assistance 
sent your way."

	"Really?" said Croft. "Do you have a spare fleet you can lend 
us?"	

	"No, but I am sending a scoutship."

	"Great," said Croft. "I'll have the men start working on the 
white flags."

	"Your humor is as inappropriate as ever," said Quick."
	"How is a scoutship going to help us at all?" Croft asked dryly. 
"In case you hadn't noticed, the odds will be even against the War 
Admiral, and those aren't very good odds."

	"What I'm sending you may help even up the odds," said Quick.

	"What exactly are you sending?" Croft asked.	

	"I'd rather not say, over an open holochannel."

	"This is a scrambled holochannel," Croft pointed out.

	"Scrambled holochannels can be cracked," Quick replied.

	"This is highly scrambled; you designed this code yourself," said 
Croft. "So why are you making me guess and wait?"

	"If I told you, there's no way you could use the information 
right now, so telling you will provide no benefit, other than to 
satisfy your impatience," said Quick. "However, if this transmission is 
intercepted, there is a small chance, however unlikely, that it could 
be decoded and what I would tell you could very much serve to our 
enemy's advantage."
	"Oh," said Croft. He paused. "I think you just like being 
mysterious."



	When Croft's shuttle docked aboard the Majestic, Admiral Landry's 
flagship, Croft made his way to the bridge.  Intelligence reports 
indicated that the War Admiral's fleet was headed in this direction, as 
Steven Quick had predicted. Croft met with Admiral Landry in his 
office.

	"So here we go again," said Landry.

	"I'm a little tired of wars too," said Croft. It had only been 
months earlier when they had defeated the Imperium; and the fleet, the 
fleet that remained, wasn't in the greatest shape. Of course, the War 
Admiral drew from the same sources as well, so his fleet should be in a 
similar shape. Not that that was much comfort, when one was going up 
against the War Admiral.

	"Do we have any chance of beating him?" Croft asked.

	"I'll do the best I can. I've thought of a number of strategies," 
said Landry, indicating a holodisplay. "But I fear the War Admiral will 
recognize them in seconds and use countermeasures."

	"That doesn't sound so hopeful," said Croft.

	"Would you like to go up against War Admiral Norman North?" 
Landry asked.
	"In a game of holotennis, perhaps," said Croft.

	Landry drummed his fingers on his desk.

	"We've been promised some help," said Croft.

	"Really?" said Landry. "What kind of help?"
	"A scoutship," said Croft.

	Landry made a face. "Wonderful. And why are you here?"

	"I think I'm supposed to assist with the help that will be 
arriving," said Croft.

	"And what is this help really supposed to me?" Landry asked.

	Croft shrugged. "I was told we would be surprised."



	But surprised barely began to describe the word. A long range 
heavily modified Explorer class scoutship signaled that it wanted to 
land in a sealed off bay. Croft recognized the ship's transponder 
immediately.

	It was the Space Racer. James Starr's ship. 

	Starr was a longstanding friend, an explorer who roamed the 
galaxy, searching to uncover its secrets, landing on uncharted worlds 
and discovering alien technology. Croft personally thought it was an 
extremely dangerous way of living, but then Starr though the same of 
Croft's chosen profession. 

	Croft and Admiral Landry met the ship alone in the sealed bay. He 
didn't fear any treachery here; after all, Quick had told him to expect 
the ship. But his hand rested on his blaster. The only one Croft truly 
trusted was... Croft. In this wild and wacky galaxy, one never knew 
what to expect.

	The Space Racer looked old, as it was, its hull scarred from 
hundreds of years of space travel. Croft watched as the door slid open. 
This was the help that Quick had promised? Then he felt a glimmer of 
hope. Maybe James had found some Monumental technology that could be 
used as a weapon. Maybe he was bringing them that weapon now. Maybe-

	But all his speculation didn't prepare him in the slightest for 
the creature who stepped down that ramp.

	Croft's mouth dropped open the minute he saw it.

	Admiral Landry's draw dropped, and he immediately drew his 
blaster. "What is this?" he said.
	Croft pushed the Admiral's blaster hand down.

	"You!" said Croft.

	

	

Chapter 12:   The War Admiral Returns Again



	"Greetings (tweatle tweatle) Clifford," said the creature.

	The creature was four legged; he had a large snout, and equally 
large whiskers, big black eyes, and straw like fur and a small tail. 
And he was blue, from snout to tail. And he wore a small black bowtie 
at the base of his neck.

	Croft said, "But... but... you're dead!"

	"Yes, I can imagine how you would think so," said the Meddler 
Capybara, his voice dripping with more condescension than usual, even 
for him.

	Croft, whose hand had been drifting towards his own blaster, 
moved away. There was no way now that this could be an imposter. The 
appearance (the bow tie, the blur fur) could be faked, but not the 
attitude. This really was the Meddler Capybara. The Meddler Capybara 
was an alien from a species of scholarly beings whose self-appointed 
task was merely to observe other species. But the Meddler broke from 
that tradition, preferring to help humanity fight its enemies, and as a 
result he was ostracized (exiled?) from his own group. Perhaps as part 
of his protest he had turned his fur a bright blue color.

	But Croft had seen the Meddler die, decades ago. They had boarded 
a Monumental ship, in search of technology that could be used to cancel 
out the effects of the mist that prevented electricity from being used 
on any of the League planets (a parting gift from the Insect invaders 
as they had retreated from known space). While on this Monumental ship, 
they had encountered a powerful monster of some kind, a dark shadowy 
creature that killed on contact. The Meddler had been killed, so they 
had thought, while distracting this creature and giving them time to 
retrieve the technology they needed to save August.

	"Would you mind telling me how you survived?" Croft asked.

	The Meddler Capybara waved a paw dismissively. "That's (tweatle 
tweatle) old history, Clifford."

	"Not for me," said Croft. "Explanation, please?"

	"I would try to explain, but I fear it is probably (tweatle 
tweatle) beyond your comprehension, young Clifford," the Capybara 
advised. 

	"So what is this... being?" Landry asked.

	"This, I presume, is the help we were promised," said Croft. 
"Although I'm not sure how even you are going to fight the War 
Admiral's spacefleet."

	"Has there been a (tweatle tweatle) general drop in human 
intelligence since my absence?" said the Meddler Capybara. "Of course I 
am not here to fight your (tweatle tweatle) primitive battles for you."

	"Wait," said Croft. "Q..." He stopped himself. He purposely had 
been trying to keep Quick's name out of this. Only President Teague and 
a handful of others besides himself knew of Quick's involvement. "A 
friend of ours said to expect help in a scoutship. Then you arrive in a 
scoutship. Isn't the conclusion logical, then, that you have come to 
help us?"
	"In a matter of speaking, that crude formulation is correct," 
said the Meddler. "But it would be more accurate to say that I have 
brought help to you."

	"What do you mean?" Croft frowned.

	The Meddler whistled and simply said, "James."

	Two figures came out of the scoutship, one leaning on the other. 
One of them, being leaned on, was James Starr, the famous explorer. And 
the other was...

	War Admiral Norman North.



	Croft's blaster was out in an instant. The Meddler immediately 
moved in his line of fire.

	"Clifford, please do not discharge your (tweatle tweatle) 
primitive energy weapon without thinking," said the Meddler. "I had a 
difficult enough time repairing the previous damage he suffered."

	"What do you mean?" said Croft, frowning. He looked at the War 
Admiral. He looked dazed, maybe drugged. "How did he get here?" Croft 
asked. Suddenly the implications sunk in. The Capybara must have 
kidnapped the War Admiral from his own flagship! What an amazing turn 
of events! Now the opposition would be leaderless! Admiral Landry's 
forces would stand a chance of winning, now that the opposition was 
deprived of their military genius! How the tables had turned!

	But the Capybara merely shook his head. "Please do not jump to 
any more irrational lines of thought until you (tweatle tweatle) more 
data, Clifford."

	"We didn't kidnap him," said Starr. "We healed him."
	"What do you mean?" said Croft, looking and feeling confused.

	"This is the real War Admiral Norman North," said Starr.

	"What do you mean, the real one?" Croft looked at the dazed and 
tired looking man. "The real one? Then the other one is an imposter?"

	"I never ceased to be (tweatle tweatle) at how many times you can 
be wrong in the space of a few seconds," said the Meddler Capybara. "I 
must write a paper on this." Suddenly a holographic quill and writing 
pad appeared above the Capybara and started writing with a flourish.

	"Stop with the writing!" Croft screamed, and the quill and 
writing pad vanished. "What is going on here?"

	Starr said, "The War Admiral, the other War Admiral, is a clone."


	They continued their conversation in the comfort of a conference 
room. War Admiral Norman North, if it really was War Admiral Norman 
North, eased into a chair with a sigh of a man who hadn't slept in a 
long time. But otherwise he said nothing.

	"How can he, the other one, be a clone?" said Croft. "To make a 
clone, they would need a sample of his DNA. Ah!" Croft suddenly 
understood. "The War Admiral was kidnapped from his hospital some time 
ago. They kidnapped him so they could get a DNA sample."
	"Wrong again, Clifford," said the Capybara. He turned to Starr. 
"The Clifford I knew was not nearly this (tweatle tweatle) dense. Do 
you suppose he might be a (tweatle tweatle) clone too?"

	Starr decided to take a more diplomatic approach. "Clifford, the 
War Admiral wasn't kidnapped by the people who cloned him," said Starr.  
"Nor would they have had to have kidnapped him to clone him. All they 
needed was a DNA sample. Hospital records indicate that the War Admiral 
was visited by an intruder, shortly after the War Admiral was shot. 
That's probably when the sample was taken."
	"But... that was 20 years ago," said Croft.

	"It takes time to grow a clone, even to speed grow it," said 
Starr.

	"But not that long."

	"Obviously whoever cloned him wanted to wait for the right time 
to release him," said Starr. "It's a lot easier to take over during a 
transitional government than it would have been with the full weight of 
Karn's Imperium on his back."
	"Oh," said Croft. He considered this. "So the War Admiral, the 
other one, is a clone. Who cloned him?"
	"We don't know," said Starr. "Or, to be precise, I don't know. 
Our mutual friend might know something, but he isn't talking." He was 
obviously referring to Quick. "But whoever cloned him obviously gave 
him training. His innate skills would be the same as the real War 
Admiral."

	"And that's why he's been fighting so well."
	"Yes," said Starr. "The only other thing that was necessary was 
brainwashing, so the clone would be controllable."
	"And that's why he acted so differently," said Croft. "He wanted 
help from us, on how to act like the War Admiral, because he didn't 
know how. He doesn't have the War Admiral's memories."

	"But he does have his abilities, and he undoubtedly has studied 
all the War Admiral's tactics and strategies," said Starr. "He's very 
dangerous."

	"Hm," said Croft, absorbing this information slowly.  "So if 
whoever cloned him didn't kidnap him, who did kidnap him?"
	"Why, I did, of course," said the Meddler Capybara.

	"Of course," said Croft, as if that should be obvious. "Why?"
	"To cure him," said the Meddler.

	"You cured him?" said Croft.

	"Of course not," said the Meddler. "His injuries were serious. I 
needed a (tweatle tweatle) skilled veterinarian."

	"Veterinarian?" said Croft.

	"And don't think I had an easy time finding one," said the 
Meddler. "James and I had to search far and wide to find one. Do you 
know how few medical practitioners there are in your galaxy who focus 
on semi-sentient beings? It is not easy to find expert veterinarians 
who-"
	"Must you use that word? Can't you just say 'doctor'?" Croft 
asked. 

	"Forgive me, your language is so crude and imprecise, I do the 
best I can," said the Capybara. "Where was I? Yes, we eventually found 
a veterinarian, and had him cured."

	"Cured," said Croft. He looked at the War Admiral. The War 
Admiral seemed to be staring at the wall. "He doesn't look cured to 
me." He looked at the Meddler. "Why doesn't he speak?"

	"I... can... speak...," said the War Admiral slowly, speaking for 
the first time. He looked at Croft, and seemed to concentrate. "I... I 
know you. You are.... are... Clifford Croft."

	"That's right," said Croft, looking into those uncertain eyes. 
"You remember?"

	"Yes," said the War Admiral. "I do."

	"Can you excuse us for a moment?" Croft said. He gestured to 
Admiral Landry. "Admiral, will you come with me for a moment? I left 
something cooking on the stove."

	"Cooking? Stove?" said Landry.

	"He wants to talk with you in private about us," said Starr.

	"Thank you, James," said Croft. He and Landry went into an 
adjoining room.

	 When they were alone Croft said, "What do you think?" 

	"He's obviously in no condition to lead our fleet," said Landry.

	"Even more than that," said Croft. "How do we know this is even 
the real War Admiral?"

	"But your friends vouched for him," said Landry. "The alien-"

	"Is just that, an alien," said Croft. "And my list of friends is 
a constantly updated and changing list."

	"You think this War Admiral is an imposter?"
	"Or a clone, perhaps one that didn't go quite right," said Croft.

	"I'm disappointed in you, Clifford," came the Capybara's voice. 
Suddenly, he appeared in the room with them.

	"Does the concept of privacy mean anything to you?" Croft asked.

	"I'm unfamiliar with that word, but you can explain it later," 
the Capybara prevaricated. "What I have brought you is indeed the real 
War Admiral Norman North."

	"If it is, then why is he so... retarded?" Croft asked.

	"He's still recovering from brain regeneration," said the 
Capybara. "The damaged parts of his brain actually had to be regrown. 
It's not like a bone which can be fixed in five minutes."

	"All right, say it really is him," said Croft. "How soon can he 
be ready to lead the fleet?"

	"The veterinarian said-"
	"Stop with the veterinarian!" Croft thundered.

	The Capybara looked at Croft, and tweatled. "Very well. The... 
animal health specialist I consulted said that your War Admiral would 
be back at full capacity in perhaps two or three of your months."

	"Great," said Croft. "We have a battle to fight in under eight 
hours."

	"Well, I can't be responsible for that," said the Meddler 
dismissively.

	"Have him taken off the Majestic," Admiral Landry decided. "He'll 
be safer somewhere else."
	"No, no no," said the Capybara. "He can (tweatle tweatle) help 
you here."

	"How?" said Croft.

	"He will lead your fleet for you."
	Croft looked confused again. "But you just said it would take 
several months-"

	"For a full recovery, yes," said the Capybara. "But he is more 
than able to lead your fleet now."
	"More than able," said Croft dully. "He can barely put sentences 
together."

	"I will get him ready," said the Capybara.

	"Uh huh," said Croft. He turned to Landry. "What do you think?"
	"I'm a good soldier," said Landry. "I can lead our fleet into 
battle. But I also know I'm no match for Norman North, or even his 
clone, if that's what we're facing. If we're to have any chance of 
surviving, we'll need a Norman North of our own, even if he's not in 
top condition."

	Croft thought about the drooling dullard in the next room. His 
doubts only grew. But he gave a bright smile and said, "All right! I'm 
enthusiastic about this plan! I'm glad to be a part of it, I'm 
positively excited about it! Let's do it!" He gave a wide smile aimed 
directly at the Meddler.

	"Pouting won't help," the Capybara advised.



	"This is War Admiral Norman North."

	The holo was transmitted on all channels, throughout known space.

	"The real Norman North," said the War Admiral. He was not in any 
uniform, which was uncharacteristic of him, and he looked very tired, 
but he had stature, nonetheless. 

	"There is someone else running around, claiming he is me," said 
the War Admiral. "He isn't. He's a clone, acting under the control of 
others."

	He paused. "I created the Standard Imperium to bring peace and 
stability after the exhaustive conflict with the Insects. But now we've 
recovered sufficiently and people are ready to decide what kind of 
government they want on their own. That's why I support the provisional 
government."

	"I would never do that." Another holoimage broke into the 
transmission. It was also War Admiral Norman North! The other War 
Admiral Norman North was decked out in his Imperial black and blue and 
silver. "This tired looking fellow is the imposter."

	"Only an imposter never conquer free people against their 
wishes," countered the War Admiral.

	"You're part of the plot of the corrupt civilian clique that 
wants to take us back to the decadent days of the League," said the 
clone.

	"No," said the War Admiral wearily. "I am not... not..."

	"Not what?" said the clone. "You claim to be the real Norman 
North. You can barely put a sentence together. You're pathetic. People 
of the galaxy, don't let this fraud fool you!"

	"I... I have recovered from a serious injury, unlike you," said 
the War Admiral slowly. "Don't be fooled by his uniform and glib 
speech. Judge me by my character, not my speaking voice."

	"Very eloquent," the clone sneered. "There is another way for 
this to be decided. When my fleet arrives at Greenfields we will see 
who has the tactical ability. We will see who is the real War Admiral."

	"Yes, we will," said the War Admiral. The transmission ended, and 
the War Admiral sank back into his chair.

	"Do you think this will help?" Croft asked the Meddler, who was 
standing invisibly nearby.

	"It can't hurt," said the Meddler. "It may stem further 
defections to the other fleet. This may also persuade a few ships from 
his side to switch back."

	"His performance was hardly overwhelming," said Croft.

	"He has only had an intact mind for several days," said the 
Meddler. "Give it time."
	"We don't have time," said Croft.

	"I will do the best we can," said the Meddler. "But you have to 
realize how limited your species is."

	"Thanks for the pep talk," said Croft.



	They received transmissions over the next hour. A handful of 
ships had defected from the clone's fleet. For obvious reasons, they 
could no longer travel in formation towards Greenfields; they peeled 
off and headed towards August.

	"What if it's a trick?" Admiral Landry said.

	"They can take August any time they like," said Croft. "Their 
goal is to knock out the only thing that can stop them. This fleet."

	"We have only a few hours left," said Landry. "Do you think he's 
going to be ready?"

	"I don't know," said Croft. "But in case he isn't, we should have 
a backup plan."



*****



	"You said he was gone!" the clone War Admiral raged.

	He was in his private quarters, speaking by secure 
holotransmission to someone in a remote location.

	"This is unexpected, to be sure," said the holoimage. The 
holoimage had gleaming silvery eyes; only two people in the galaxy were 
known to have this feature, and the clone War Admiral wasn't speaking 
to the holoimage of Steven Quick.

	 "Unexpected? That's an understatement," said the War Admiral. 
"He's undercutting my legitimacy."

	"You held your ground quite well," said the holoimage of the 
Terrible Thinker. 
	"He will ruin our plan."

	"No, he won't," said the Terrible Thinker. "It doesn't take a 
medical expert to see that he's not recovered. As you noticed he has 
trouble putting sentences together. You can beat him easily."

	"I never thought it would come to this," the War Admiral 
whispered.

	"Do you have any qualms about fighting him?" the Terrible Thinker 
asked, carefully watching for a reaction.

	"No... it's just that he's so much like me," said the War 
Admiral.

	"He's not at all like you," said the Terrible Thinker. "He is 
weak. It was his weakness, his failure to take over from the civilian 
government, that allowed the Insects to invade to League and enslave 
the human race. And now he is propping up another weak civilian 
government."

	"Yes, I can see that," said the War Admiral.

	"We spent years planning this, waiting for the right time." said 
the Terrible Thinker. "After I had you cloned and growth accelerated, 
you spent years studying all of his battles and strategies. He's no 
match for you, even if he had half a brain, which he doesn't appear 
to."

	"That's almost certainly true," said the War Admiral.

	"At the same time, however, I think it might be prudent to modify 
our strategy slightly," said the Thinker.

	"How?" the War Admiral asked.

	"With all their forces massed at Greenfields, all the other 
planets have been left defenseless. We can take August, June, 
Wilderland-"
	"No! I have to face him!" said the War Admiral.

	"It would not be prudent," said the Terrible Thinker.

	"Why? You've just told me I could easily beat him!" said the War 
Admiral.

	"I told you that you probably could," said the Terrible Thinker. 
"But there are no guarantees. It does not make logical sense to attack 
the enemy at its strongest point."

	"But you were prepared to have me do that before we learned that 
he returned," said the War Admiral.

	"His presence adds an unknown to the equation," said the Terrible 
Thinker. "The risk, however small, can be avoided if we attack 
elsewhere, forcing him to disperse his fleet-"

	"No!" said the War Admiral. "This will be the only chance I will 
ever have to meet him with equal forces. I must do this!"

	"You have nothing to prove," said the Terrible Thinker.

	"I will show the galaxy who is real and who is not," said the War 
Admiral, before he ended the transmission.

	In his undisclosed location, the Terrible Thinker sat in silence 
for a moment, considering. Then his mind moved on to other topics.



********



	"We're picking up the War Admiral's fleet approaching at extreme 
range," said the scanner officer.

	Admiral Landry cast an inquiring glance at the scanner officer.

	"Uh, I mean, the other War Admiral's fleet," said the officer.

	"Call the War Admiral to the bridge," said Landry. Well, if the 
War Admiral was going to prove himself, now would have to be the time.

	The War Admiral entered the bridge, accompanied by James Starr 
and Clifford Croft. The War Admiral seemed to walk a little more 
steadily than before. His face looked grim.

	"War Admiral, the fleet is ready for your command," said Admiral 
Landry formally.

	"Thank you, Admiral," said the War Admiral. He sat smoothly in 
the command chair. "Please bring up a holo of the tactical situation," 
he said calmly.

	Croft eyed him closely. He seemed normal enough. If he hadn't 
known better, he would have said that the War Admiral was his old self 
again.

	The image appeared, showing the disposition of the two fleets. 
The War Admiral analyzed it silently for a moment, and then two, and 
then three moments, as the fleets moved closer together. Croft started 
to worry, but said nothing.

	And then the War Admiral started issuing orders, rapidfire. Ships 
started to deploy.

	Admiral Landry didn't allow himself the luxury of relaxing. He 
sounded like the War Admiral, the old War Admiral, but they would only 
know for sure with the outcome of the battle.



********

	On the clone's flagship, the War Admiral smiled. "I have seen 
this maneuver before. Is he trying to trick me into thinking he is 
doing the same thing twice, or will he try to take an unusual twist on 
a known maneuver? Knowing him, I suspect the latter." He thought 
furiously for a moment, figuring out what the War Admiral intended to 
do, and then deployed his forces accordingly.



********



	The fleet engaged in battle. The War Admiral, the real War 
Admiral, furiously issued orders as the battle progressed. But the 
beginning news was not good; several of their capital ships had been 
outmaneuvered, and were heavily damaged. The War Admiral paused, 
seemingly lost in thought, but then he snapped out of it, and issued 
more orders.

	Several minutes later it was clear that his corrective orders 
were not working. The fleet was inflicting damage on the enemy, but the 
enemy seemed to be one step ahead, and inflicting more damage on the 
War Admiral's fleet. This went on for some time until the War Admiral 
suddenly grew silent, his mind considering the possibilities, unable to 
choose.

	"Admiral?" said Landry, looking at the War Admiral's confused 
face. "Admiral?" he said again, when he got no response.  "We've got to 
do something!"

	"I... I....," said the War Admiral. He stared helplessly at the 
combat display, unsure what to say.

	Landry looked around, and finally turned to look at Croft.

	"Now, Admiral," said Croft, speaking to Landry.

	Landry activated the comm. "Attention all units, this is Admiral 
Landry. I am giving the immediate order to retreat. Retreat, retreat 
immediately to contingency point alpha. Retreat-"

	Starr helped the War Admiral out of the chair. The War Admiral, 
looking both confused and distraught, kept glancing back at the 
tactical display, but Starr firmly left him off the bridge.

	The fleet, those ships that still survived, turned tail and left 
Greenfields to the tender mercy of the clone's fleet.

	

	Later, Croft met with Admiral Landry, the Meddler Capybara, James 
Starr, and President Beagan, who was present by holo. Notably, the War 
Admiral was not present. A holoreport was displayed in the center of 
the briefing table.

	"It was a disaster," said Landry. "We lost nearly 20 ships. Two 
more were severely damaged and had to be abandoned. Thirty more have 
varying degrees of damage. Effectively, I have only slightly more than 
half the fleet left." He glared at Croft, the Capybara, and Starr in 
turn.

	"It was a calculated risk," said Starr.

	"And we lost," said Landry resentfully.

	"What is the situation now?" President Beagan asked.

	"Right now we're on our way back to August," said Landry. "The 
other War Admiral's fleet is only a few hours behind us."

	"What are our options?" Beagan asked.

	"We have no options," said Landry. "After this disaster, they 
have nearly double the combat strength we do. And to be completely 
honest, we're no match for his tactical ability. We can make a last 
stand on August, but it will be futile."

	"What other choice is there?" Beagan asked.

	Landry gave a deep sigh. "There is none.

	"Yes there is," said Croft promptly. "Disperse the fleet. Go to 
ground.

	"You're proposing another long term guerrilla war," said Beagan."

	"Yes," said Croft. 

	"That has little appeal for me," said Beagan.

	"Do you have any other idea?" Croft asked.	"I'm tired of 
having my home planet occupied. I fought for decades against the 
Insects, and then decades more against the Imperium. I've had enough of 
it. But right now we don't have the forces to defeat them. Fighting 
another battle and dying would be pointless."

	"He's right," said Landry. "There is no other alternative."

	"Yes, there is," said the Meddler Capybara.

	"Oh really, Mr. Rat?" said Landry. "And what brilliant idea do 
you have for us now?"

	"Reform your (tweatle tweatle) fleet at August. When the other 
fleet arrives, engage them in combat," said the Meddler.

	"That's your excellent idea? We'll be destroyed in minutes," said 
Landry. "Haven't you been listening? They now outnumber us two to one. 
And they have a tactical genius leading them."

	"They have a clone leading them," said the Meddler. "You have the 
real thing."

	"That didn't help us at Greenfields," said Landry.

	"He wasn't properly prepared," said the Meddler.

	"Oh, and in the few hours it takes to get to August you'll have 
him properly prepared?"
	"Yes," said the Meddler Capybara.

	Landry turned to Croft. "Do you believe any of this?"
	"Not really," said Croft. He turned to the Meddler. "It was your 
responsibility to have him ready for the Greenfields battle. He wasn't. 
I don't see what a few more hours are going to accomplish."

	"You humans are so into absolutes, (tweatle tweatle) with you 
everything is yes or no, on or off," said the Meddler. "You refuse to 
accept or appreciate subtly in the galaxy. If something does not work 
once, throw it away, for it can never work at all, you think. It's a 
wonder at all that you managed even to accomplish (tweatle tweatle) 
primitive spaceflight."

	"Are you saying that you can have him ready to fight again?" said 
Croft.

	"I think so," said the Meddler.

	"That's hardly very certain."
	"When dealing with humans, very little certainty is possible," 
said the Meddler.

	"Croft, what do you think?" said Beagan.

	Croft thought for a moment. Then he said, "As I've said, the only 
alternative is to disperse the fleet and fight a guerrilla war. I'm not 
excited about that. But I'm also not excited about dying in a pointless 
battle. It all boils down to whether we trust the rat."

	"I'm not a rat," said the Meddler Capybara.

	"Do you trust the rat?" said Beagan.

	"The rat has usually been right before," said Croft.

	"I'm not a (tweatle tweatle)," said the Capybara.

	"He was wrong very recently."

	"Even a rat can make mistakes," said Croft. 

	"Not a rat," the Capybara repeated.

	"So, we have found a term that you're sensitive to," said Croft. 
"If the term makes you feel ill, perhaps you should see a 
veterinarian."

	"This is not the time to play petty games of semantic revenge, 
Clifford."

	"Can you get him ready?" said Croft, staring the Capybara in the 
eye.

	The Capybara paused, as if considering factors unknown to Croft. 
Then he slowly nodded.

	Croft turned to the holoimage of Interim President Beagan. "Let's 
do it."
	Admiral Landry was still not enthusiastic. "Even if this creature 
can get the War Admiral ready, we'll be outnumbered two to one."

	"The War Admiral has been outnumbered before and won," said 
Croft.
	"But the War Admiral was in full command of his faculties, and 
wasn't facing a genius as brilliant as himself," said Landry.

	"So we'll take precautions," said Croft. He turned to the 
holoimage of President Beagan. "Get off August now, while you have 
time. Disperse the government. If we don't succeed, start the 
revolution again on the ground."

	"It will be like starting from scratch with the Imperium," said 
Beagan bluntly.

	"Well, it will give you something to do for a while," said Croft. 
"It's good to keep busy."

	"And what about you? Are you going to ground?" said Beagan.

	"No, I'm going to stay around here for a while," said Croft.

	"I don't see what further purpose you can serve," said Beagan. 

	"I'm often told that," said Croft. "Good luck," he added, as he 
severed the connection.

	Landry turned coldly to the Meddler. "We're all depending on you, 
rat."

	The Meddler wiggled his whiskers. "I sense hostility in your 
tone."

	"Very astute," said Landry, getting up. "Maybe you can write a 
book about that, assuming we survive." He got up and left.

	"Oh, don't mind him," said Croft. "He's just angry that we're all 
probably about to die."

	"Aggression. Sarcasm," said the Meddler. Suddenly the holographic 
quill and writing tablet reappeared. "Your reaction to stress is most 
fascinating."

	"Stop with the writing!" Croft screamed. The quill and tablet 
obediently disappeared. "Now, can you get him ready, or not? You said 
it would take him months to heal."

	"I'll just have to accelerate the process a bit," said the 
Meddler.



********



	"I defeated him with ease!" said the clone War Admiral.

	"I saw," said the holoimage of the Terrible Thinker. "Your 
performance was most impressive. I never had any doubt."

	"Yes, you did," said the War Admiral, his eyes narrowing. "But 
that doesn't matter. The remainder of their fleet has fled to August. 
We'll crush them there, and then reestablish the Imperium."

	"Very good," said the Terrible Thinker. 

	"I should like to take him prisoner," said the War Admiral.

	"Why?" said the Thinker, his silvery eyes staring at the War 
Admiral.

	"I'm interested in how I was, how I used to be."

	"I have told you everything you need to know," said the Thinker. 
"You have studied all his battles, all his strategies and tactics. 
There is nothing else you need to know."

	"I'm curious, though, about his personality. Despite his flaws, 
he is very similar to me. We could have fascinating conversations, if 
only about battle tactics. He's one of the few people in the galaxy who 
could understand me."

	"He can't understand you; he's simply a brain damaged old fool," 
said the Terrible Thinker. "And if you had any brains, you would 
understand that his mere existence is a threat to your legitimacy and 
that he needs to be liquidated at the earliest possible opportunity." 
He stared carefully at the clone, watching his reaction.

	"Yes, I can see that," said the War Admiral slowly. "I still 
would like to talk to him, though, before having him executed."

	"Just concentrate on winning your last battle. Chances are he 
will be destroyed with his ship. Do not offer him the option of 
surrender."

	"I understand," said the War Admiral.



********



	The real War Admiral sat silently in his quarters, his hands in 
his lap. The door opened behind him.

	"Please leave me alone, James."
	"So you can (tweatle tweatle) sulk and feel self-pity?" a 
different voice replied.

	The War Admiral slowly turned and saw the Meddler slowly waddling 
into his quarters.

	"I failed them," said the War Admiral.

	"You most certainly did," said the Meddler. "The others may not 
have noticed it, but I understood what you did. You simply memorized 
one of your previous battle maneuvers, and used it here. You weren't 
actively thinking throughout, and when circumstances changed, you 
didn't know what to do."

	The War Admiral slowly nodded.

	"Perhaps it would have been (tweatle tweatle) better to have a 
parrot in command. It could have memorized the same battle tactics and 
issued them as well. Its squawks might have been more (tweatle tweatle)  
amusing than you," said the Meddler Capybara.
	"Why are you being like this?" said the War Admiral.

	"You were given a simple task, and you failed," said the Meddler.

	"You call fighting someone with my tactical ability simple?"
	"He didn't have your (tweatle tweatle) tactical ability," said 
the Meddler. "He didn't have your (tweatle tweatle) experiences. In 
fact, he had no (tweatle tweatle) experience at all. All he did was 
(tweatle tweatle) memorize your battles a little better than you did."

	"I don't feel like my old self," said the War Admiral.

	"Yes, I suppose the healing process failed," said the Capybara.

	"Failed? I thought you said it would just take more time."

	"No, I think it failed," said the Capybara. "You never (tweatle 
tweatle) had much of a brain to begin with, so we didn't (tweatle 
tweatle) have much to work with."

	"What are you talking about? I was known throughout the galaxy as 
a military genius-"

	"Throughout the human inhabited galaxy, a tiny small corner of a 
tiny galaxy," said the Capybara mockingly. "And most of your so-called 
(tweatle tweatle) victories were through luck and random chance. You 
simply happened to be (tweatle tweatle) luckier than your opponents."

	"No," said the War Admiral, shaking his head. "That's not true."

	"You're actually not very impressive at all, even for a (tweatle 
tweatle) human," said the Meddler.

	"No, I just can't think straight!" said the War Admiral.

	"I know, so we're arranging to get some (tweatle tweatle) rest 
for you," said the Capybara.

	"What do you mean?"
	"You're going back to your old (tweatle tweatle) mental 
hospital," said the Capybara.

	"What?"

	"We've arranged that, as part of the (tweatle tweatle) 
surrender," the Meddler explained.

	"What surrender?"
	"We just negotiated it with your clone," said the Meddler. "Don't 
worry, you won't be harmed. But you will have to be (tweatle tweatle) 
locked away." Suddenly, the War Admiral saw himself covered with a 
strait jacket. Was it holographic? He tried to touch it, but it gave 
him an electrical shock and he recoiled.

	"No, you won't have that kind of freedom of movement," the 
Meddler chided. "And of course, you'll have to be (tweatle tweatle) 
drugged, so you can't talk to anyone or say anything subversive."

	"Drugged?"

	"But given your obvious lack of intellect, you'll barely (tweatle 
tweatle) notice it," said the Meddler. "Perhaps if you're good and 
properly obedient they will even (tweatle tweatle) decorate you with 
appropriate attire."

	Suddenly a holographic dunce cap appeared on the War Admiral's 
head, with the letters "DUM" in big letters on it.

	"It will be a much lower stress environment, it will be good for 
(tweatle tweatle) you," said the Meddler.

	"I don't want this!" the War Admiral roared. 

	"It's a pity then, that you didn't take action when you had the 
chance."

	"No!" said the War Admiral. He tried to touch the holographic 
strait jacket, and got another shock. Gritting his teeth, he reached 
out for it again, but was shocked again. Wincing, he jumped up, 
flailing out with his arms, yelling in pain, screaming at the top of 
his lungs.

	Suddenly, the pain stopped. The door hissed open, and guards 
entered. "What's happening?" one of them said.

	The War Admiral looked down at himself, and then upwards. There 
was no sign of a strait jacket, or a dunce cap. He looked at himself, 
then the Capybara, then the guards. "Fine,"  he said. "Everything is 
fine."

	The guards, looking uncertain, left.

	"Why did you resist, when you kept getting (tweatle tweatle) 
shocked?" said the Capybara.

	"I'm not willing to accept that outcome," said the War Admiral. 
He took a deep breath. Suddenly, he felt more like his old self.

	"And so what are you going to do?"
	"I'm going to fight harder."
	"Good," said the Capybara. "I'll (tweatle tweatle) the others."

	"What about the surrender?"
	"What (tweatle tweatle) surrender?" said the Capybara.



	The other crewmembers were visibly nervous when the War Admiral 
came to the bridge again. Admiral Landry was impassive. 

	The War Admiral looked at the tactical display. "Move the fleet 
here," he said, indicating a point on the three dimensional map.

	The navigator looked up at Landry, who nodded.



******



	The clone's fleet entered the August system. War Admiral Norman 
North stared at a similar display that his counterpart was just looking 
at on his own ship.

	"They seem to be in a tight orbit around August," said the clone 
War Admiral. He nodded. "That makes sense. That puts them in range of 
August's ground to air batteries for protection." He checked the sensor 
map more closely. "It looks like the entire fleet is there. Very 
straightforward."

	He turned to an adjutant. "Have squadrons 1 through 4 engage the 
enemy's fleet, keeping just out of range of those planetary guns."

	"But we won't be able to close with the enemy for maximum 
effect," said the aide.

	"I know," said the War Admiral calmly.

	"And what of battle squadrons 5 through 7?" the aide asked. 

	"Have them circle around the back side of the planet, to confront 
the rest of the War Admiral's fleet," said the War Admiral.

	"The rest of his fleet?" said the aide.

	"He's hidden some of it behind the planet to outflank us with," 
said the War Admiral confidently.

	"But our sensors show all his fleet is out in the open," said the 
aide.

	"Yes, the sensors do show that, don't they?" said the War 
Admiral. He suspected that some of his opponent's ships weren't as real 
as they seemed. "Now do as I say."

	The clone's fleet split up into two groups, with the larger force 
going to confront the War Admiral's fleet while a smaller group went 
behind the planet. But when the clone's larger force got on the edge of 
firing range with the War Admiral's fleet, a surprising thing happened; 
the War Admiral's fleet left the relative safety of close orbit and 
headed out at full speed to confront the clone's fleet.

	The battle quickly engaged. It soon became apparent to the clone 
that all the enemy ships on the clone's sensors were in fact real; and 
by sending part of his fleet to the opposite side of the planet, he had 
divided his fleet for no reason and wasted precious minutes.

	Well, it didn't matter; the clone felt confident he could defeat 
the War Admiral even with roughly even forces. And it wouldn't take the 
rest of his fleet more than a few minutes to return to the battle.



******

	The War Admiral, the real War Admiral, used those few minutes to 
his maximum advantage. When the clone had split up his fleet in 
response to the War Admiral's very simple and very open positioning of 
his entire fleet in one place, only the War Admiral hadn't been 
surprised by the clone's move. 

	The War Admiral ordered the fleet into battle. He constantly 
issued orders to the capital ships, the cruiser groups, even the 
fighter squadrons, constantly having them maneuver to obtain the best 
positioning in this constantly three dimensional puzzle of attacking 
ships, constantly working to have his strongest units attack the 
enemy's weakest points. The War Admiral would occasionally pause, or 
change his orders in midsentence, but those watching him could see that 
once again he had hit a stride.

	The clone responded with countermoves of his own, and at first 
they were effective, but he couldn't keep up with the initiative of the 
War Admiral, and that started to show quickly when the bulk of his 
fleet started to take damage at a quicker pace than the War Admiral's. 
Gritting his teeth, the clone started to shout out orders, and yell at 
his men, but that did not improve their performance.

	By the time the other half of the clone's fleet returned the 
first half of the clone fleet was in poor shape. But their combined 
forces still outnumbered the War Admiral's fleet. The clone ordered his 
newly arrived forces to attack.

	But the War Admiral cleverly moved his forces to the rear of the 
first half of the clone's fleet, positioning the damaged half of the 
clone's fleet in between his forces and the newly arrived forces. It 
would take some maneuvering, and additional time, before the newly 
arrived forces could bring their weapons to bear.

	The battle continued for nearly two hours. Some of the clone's 
countermeasures were effective, and his forces destroyed a number of 
the War Admiral's capital ships. But more often than not the War 
Admiral got the better of him, using unconventional maneuvers to 
inflict far more damage on the clone's ships.

	Finally, a holo of the Terrible Thinker appeared on the bridge. 
"Withdraw, now!"

	"No!" The clone screamed.

	"You have a chance to salvage things, but not if you continue 
with this battle!"

	"No!" the clone yelled again.

	"Admiral Booz, withdraw the fleet," said the Terrible Thinker.

	The Admiral, not looking at the clone, nodded. He gave the 
retreat order to the fleet.

	"No, no, no, we can still win this!" The War Admiral shouted.

	"That's correct," said the Terrible Thinker. "But not today. You 
have to be patient. If a strategy isn't working, you don't keep trying 
it. You, the War Admiral, should know that."

	The War Admiral nodded, looking defeated.



******



	"They're withdrawing," said the scanner officer, his voice tinged 
with disbelief. Suddenly the bridge crew gave a tremendous cheer.

	"You did it... sir," said Landry, looking at the War Admiral.

	The War Admiral nodded. He slowly got up, and left the bridge.





******



	Croft was in the War Admiral's quarters. It was explanation time. 
Croft said, "How did you do that? Not to be indelicate, but I thought 
you were recovering from severe brain damage!"

	"He got better," said the Meddler, suddenly appearing with a 
little pop.

	"When you get around to looking up the word 'privacy', also check 
out the entry for 'uninvited'," said Croft.

	The War Admiral gave a small smile, the first Croft had seen. He 
said, "I wouldn't say my thinking is one hundred percent of what it 
formerly was.  But once my mind cleared a bit it didn't take a rocket 
scientist to figure out how to outwit the clone."

	"How do you mean?" Croft asked.

	"The clone had my genetic makeup, so he had my inherent ability," 
said the War Admiral. "But he didn't have my experience."

	"But I'm sure he studied all your battles," said Croft.

	"I'm sure he did," said the War Admiral. "But knowing what 
happened is not nearly as important as knowing why things happened. I 
always based my tactics on the psychology of the opponent."

	"And since you had never faced yourself in battle before-"
	"There was no useful reference for the clone to draw from," said 
the War Admiral. "I tried to think like him; I expected that he would 
expect a trap. Therefore, I made no trap of any kind, and did a 
straightforward approach. His paranoia in splitting his forces was his 
own doing."

	"I see," said Croft. "But then, in battle, I saw you. You outwit 
him even there."

	"Experience again," said the War Admiral. "Studying battles is 
one thing; having the experience of assessing situations in split 
seconds and devising countermeasures can't be learned by studying any 
battle. Whoever put the clone up to this didn't realize what he was 
doing."

	"He didn't know he would be going up against you," said Croft. 
"Your arrival was purely fortuitous... or was it?" He turned to the 
Capybara. "Was it just a coincidence that he arrived when he did?"

	"Don't look at me, Clifford," said the Meddler. "According to 
you, I've been busy being dead for the past twenty years."

	"So would you mind telling me what happened to you?" said Croft. 
"Last I know, Starr left you on some rock on a planet or something."
	"Oh, very well," said the Meddler. "I (tweatle tweatle tweatle 
whistle! tweatle-)"

	"Stop!" Croft commanded. "I can see I'm not going to get a real 
answer, so you can stop now."
	"I'm afraid your language is very limiting."

	"As is your graciousness," said Croft.

	"I did provide a minor service which saved your new government," 
said the Meddler. "I am puzzled by the human concept of gratitude--
under what circumstances does it come into play?"

	"Enough, you two," said the War Admiral. "We've still got an 
unfinished job to attend to."



******



	"How did I lose!" The clone War Admiral raged. He paced back and 
forth in his quarters furiously, wringing his hands.

	"It was only one battle," said the Terrible Thinker.

	"A battle I should have one!"
	"Even the War Admiral, the other War Admiral, sometimes lost 
battles," said the Terrible Thinker. "The reason he is still alive is 
that he knew that every battle couldn't be won. He focused on winning 
the war."

	"I suppose so," said the clone.

	"After all, you did beat him in your first encounter. I would say 
that makes you tied," said the Terrible Thinker.

	"Well, I won't make any mistakes the next time," said the War 
Admiral.

	"There won't be a next time," said the Terrible Thinker.

	"What do you mean?" said the War Admiral. "Our forces are a 
little smaller now, but I think I can take him on-"

	"It's too risky," said the Terrible Thinker. "This isn't some 
slow-thinking admiral you'd be taking on. We can't chance a loss."
	"I wouldn't lose," said the War Admiral.

	"The War Admiral would always admit the risk of defeat."

	"I am the War Admiral!" thundered the clone.

	"Of course you are," said the Terrible Thinker. "And you're going 
to win. We're just going to use different tactics, that's all."
	"What do you have in mind?" the clone asked.



******



	"The situation is not entirely stable," said Admiral Landry. He 
was speaking to the holoimage of President Beagan. Croft, the War 
Admiral, the Meddler Capybara, and James Starr were also there.

	"Our fleet was badly damaged in the encounter," said Landry. "I 
estimate we have about 20 able capital ships and 40 secondary ships 
that are in reasonably good condition."
	"And the enemy?" Beagan asked.

	"Probably about 15 capital ships, maybe 30 secondary ones," 
Landry estimated.

	"So we're slightly better off than they are, but not 
overwhelmingly so," said Beagan.

	"Sir, we're getting a transmission," said an officer. "It's, ah, 
from the War Admiral." He glanced at the War Admiral. "The other one, 
sir."

	Landry nodded and the officer pressed a button. The holoimage of 
the clone War Admiral appeared in the center of the briefing room 
table. He looked uncomfortably similar to the War Admiral, especially 
in his Standard Imperium uniform. If they hadn't known which was which, 
one could easily impersonate the other....

	"This is War Admiral Norman North," he said. Obviously, he was 
still trying to claim legitimacy.

	"Each side in this conflict has suffered tremendous losses. Loss 
of life was the last thing I wanted," said the clone. "Therefore, I 
call for a truce. I furthermore propose that during this truce I and my 
counterpart meet at the science station at Vitalics. I will come in 
only one ship; I would ask my opponent to do the same, under the banner 
of a truce. If you are serious about peace, meet me there in two days." 
The image faded.

	"Well, that's a bit of news," said President Beagan. "What do you 
think?"

	"I think that he knows he's outnumbered and going to try to 
strike a deal to keep the territory he has," said Landry.

	"I think it's a trap and he's going to try and kill the War 
Admiral," said Croft.

	"I think I should go," said the War Admiral suddenly.

	"What?" said Croft.

	"In many ways, he is me," said the War Admiral. "Maybe I can 
persuade him to switch sides."

	"He's been brainwashed by whoever cloned him," said Croft.

	"I have to go," said the War Admiral.

	"Not if the President won't let you," said Croft. He turned to 
Beagan.

	But the War Admiral spoke first. "Mr. President, if this war 
continues more will be killed. The enemy still has a potent force. Even 
I cannot guarantee victory."
	Beagan considered. "Do you really think you have a chance of 
succeeding?"

	"I do, sir," said the War Admiral.

	Beagan nodded. "Then you may go. But take every security 
precaution."
	"Thank you, sir," said the War Admiral.

	"This is very, very foolish," said Croft. He looked around. The 
only eye he could catch was the Capybara's. The Capybara had big, black 
eyes which unnerved Croft sometimes. He stared back at him with a big 
black eye, which suddenly blinked. Croft jumped slightly in his chair.

	What did that mean?







Chapter 13:  The War Admiral And The War Admiral



	Vitalics. The scene of the League's bitterest defeat, where the 
Insects, under the guise of an armistice, destroyed nearly the entire 
human fleet. And now, Croft felt sure, the clone, under the guise of 
another ceasefire, was plotting to kill the War Admiral.

	The Vitalics system was virtually empty, except for a few 
uninhabited planets and a small science station. They found the clone's 
battleship docked with it when their ship, the Majestic, arrived in the 
system.

	"This is where it all started, War Admiral," said Croft, hoping 
North would see the symbolism and change his mind.

	But North merely nodded and said nothing.

	In a few minutes the War Admiral's ship docked with the science 
station. The War Admiral stepped into the airlock, accompanied by Croft 
and a squad of armed guards.

	They made their way to the designated conference room, deep 
inside the station. There they found guards dressed in the black and 
blue and silver of the Standard Imperium. When they started to go into 
the conference room, the guard leader said, "Only the War Admiral, 
sir."

	"I don't think so," said Croft.

	The War Admiral held up a restraining hand. "Croft, scan the 
interior of the room. How many life signs do you detect?"
	Croft whipped out his scanner. "One."

	The War Admiral nodded. "I'll be fine."

	"This is really, really foolish," said Croft, eyeing the opposing 
guards.

	"Stay here," said the War Admiral.

	He entered the room. The door slid shut behind him. He was not 
quite prepared for what he saw--himself. Now that he had gotten some 
rest, he looked less tired, and almost exactly like his clone 
counterpart. They had evidently artificially aged him to appear as 
similar to the War Admiral as possible.

	"Greetings," said the clone.

	"Hello," said the War Admiral.

	The clone gestured for him to take a seat at a table. The War 
Admiral warily did so, never taking his eyes off of the clone, who did 
the same. Both of them were armed.

	"I've been so wanting to meet you," said the clone.

	"To find out what the original is like?"
	"You might say that," said the clone. Suddenly he grinned. "In 
case you think you're recording this, I have a number of jamming 
devices on my person."
	"So at least we can be honest with each other."

	"Yes," said the other War Admiral. "I am a clone."

	"Not like me," said the War Admiral.

	"I have the same innate abilities as you," said the clone. "I've 
studied all your battles."

	"But you don't have the actual experience," said the War Admiral. 
"I think now you can appreciate that learning from a database isn't 
quite the same thing as experience in battle."

	"Maybe," said the clone. "But I learn quickly."
	"Who taught you?" said the War Admiral. "Who are you working 
for?"

	"That's not important," said the clone. "What is important is 
what I represent."

	"And what is that?" The War Admiral asked.

	"Law. Order. Authority," said the clone. "You had all the right 
instincts when you set up the Standard Imperium. The civilian 
authorities got us into this mess with Vitalics through their 
weakness."

	"I set up the Standard Imperium because society had broken down 
after decades of occupation. It was never intended to be permanent. It 
never could be permanent, when someone like General Karn got control."

	"Karn. That bungler."

	"More than just a bungler. A tyrant," said the War Admiral.

	"He didn't have our ability," said the clone.

	"And what ability is that?"
	"Military brilliance," said the clone.

	"For what ends?" the War Admiral asked.

	"To bring order. To defend us from attack."

	"What good is having a proper defense if we're all enslaved by a 
cruel dictator?"

	"I wouldn't be a cruel dictator," said the clone.

	"Really?" said the War Admiral. "And what of your successor?"

	"Successor?"

	"When you're assassinated, or deposed. When the next guy gets 
your job, will he be as benevolent as you?"
	"That won't happen," said the clone firmly.

	"You don't know anything," said the War Admiral dismissively.

	"And you do?"
	The War Admiral nodded. "I've lived for hundreds of years. I've 
seen regimes come and go. If you get your way, we'll all be enslaved 
again, either by you or whatever aliens created you."

	"I wasn't created by aliens!" said the clone.

	"Really? This line you're parroting about law and order sounds 
suspiciously like what the Screen advocated. You remember the Screen? 
If you studied your history, they helped the Insects invade August. 
They even had the temerity to come to me, after I established the 
Imperium, wanting to make a deal. They were lucky to escape with their 
lives. And now you're working for them."
	"I am not!" said the clone. "My benefactor is as human as you. 
But he's ten times brighter-"

	"The Terrible Thinker," said the War Admiral suddenly. "Of 
course. I should have known. Now it makes sense."

	The clone looked chagrined that he had inadvertently revealed the 
Thinker's identity.

	"Talk about dictators? The Thinker is one of the worst."

	"He's called the Great Thinker!"

	"Only by his own propaganda networks. Why don't you look up 
League version of history? Look at the kind of dictatorship he's run. 
Look at all the opponents he's had killed."

	"Of course he's killed opponents! So have you!"

	The War Admiral shook his head. "In battle, yes. I'm talking 
about political opponents, peaceful opposition."

	"Well, what else can be done with them?"
	"When I ran the Standard Imperium we had complete freedom of the 
press."

	"That sounds like anarchy."

	"We had a peaceful government for over 120 years," said the War 
Admiral. He changed his tact. "You're so focused on having a strong 
government, one that can defend us from external threats. That's fine. 
But it needs some checks and balances or else it will end up repressing 
the very people it's set to protect."
	"But the League-"

	"The League kept us safe for centuries, but yes it was flawed. 
That's why we're setting up a new kind of government, a purely military 
alliance, while leaving maximum freedom to the individual planetary 
governments," said the War Admiral.

	"Do you really think that can work?"
	"It's never been tried," said the War Admiral. "On the other 
hand, dictatorships have been tried, and they brought us the Terrible 
Thinker, General Karn, and decades of repression."

	"You're trying to confuse me," said the clone.

	"I hope so," said the War Admiral. "What do you think I've been 
fighting for most of my life? To have a nice repressive government? Why 
do you think I risked my life over and over? So people could have 
freedom, freedom to live and enjoy their lives. I wouldn't have risked 
my life for anything else. You, on the other hand, are fighting to prop 
up a brutal dictator who has killed and imprisoned thousands."

	"You're... you're twisting things," said the clone.

	"I'm telling you the truth," said the War Admiral. "Look in the 
old League database and see for yourself."

	Suddenly, they heard a series of thuds in the hallway.

	The War Admiral and the clone drew their blasters at the same 
time.

	"What's going on?" said the War Admiral slowly.

	The door open, and a man dressed in the uniform of the Standard 
Imperium entered. "Come with us, please."
	"I don't think so," said the War Admiral, his gun still trained 
on the clone.

	The man sighed, as if he had heard it all before.

	Suddenly, the War Admiral felt his gun slip from his hands. He 
felt himself being pushed towards the doorway. When he got into the 
corridor, he saw Croft and the security team, pressed against the wall. 
They were standing very still.

	"They're not harmed," said the man. "Now come along." The War 
Admiral was prodded at blaster point by the clone's guards.

	The man must be a powerful telekinetic. He had frozen Croft and 
the security team. That was one contingency Croft hadn't prepared for.

	The War Admiral looked back at the clone, who was walking 
silently behind him. "What do you plan to do with me?"

	The clone didn't respond.

	"Keep moving," said one of the guards.

	Once they were aboard the clone's battleship the War Admiral was 
frisked and taken to a cell.

	The clone's battleship left the space station in a hurry. The 
Majestic immediately laid in a pursuing course, opening fire on the 
battleship, but in a few minutes the Majestic spotted the rest of the 
clone's fleet on long range scanners, and had to turn tail and head 
back the way it came.

	"See them run," said the clone scornfully, from the comfort of 
his quarters.

	"Good work," said the holoimage of the Terrible Thinker.

	"What do we do now?" the clone asked.

	"We resume the war," said the Terrible Thinker. "We are slightly 
outnumbered, but there is no one to match your ability now."

	"Good," said the clone. "And the War Admiral?"
	"Kill him," said the Terrible Thinker. 

	"Why?"
	"We only needed him as a hostage until your ship rejoined the 
rest of your fleet. He's unnecessary now."

	"He has a lot of battle knowledge that could be useful to us," 
said the clone.

	"To us?" said the Terrible Thinker.

	"To me," said the clone.

	"I think you are letting ill-founded sentimentality cloud your 
judgment," said the Terrible Thinker. "As long as the War Admiral 
lives, there exist the possibility he might escape, and become a danger 
again."

	"But he could be taught, educated to join our cause."
	The Terrible Thinker shook his head. "He could never be trusted. 
He's too deeply indoctrinated in League thinking."

	Indoctrination. The same thing the War Admiral had accused the 
clone of.

	The Terrible Thinker turned to the clone. "Would you like me to 
handle it?"
	"No," said the clone quickly. "I will."
	"Are you sure?"
	"I'm sure," said the clone.

	"Very well," said the Terrible Thinker. "Report when it's done."
	"I will," said the clone.

	The clone checked his blaster, straightened out his uniform, and 
left his quarters.



	The War Admiral sat in the clone's brig. He remembered all too 
well that Croft had warned him that something like this might happen. 
But he had to try. The clone... well, he was like a brother. Even if he 
were conditioned to be this way, the War Admiral felt he had to try to 
save him.

	The clone lowered the forcefield and entered the cell. He had a 
blaster in each hand. Was he coming to kill him? Why did he have two 
blasters?

	"I'm sorry, but it's been decided that you have to be 
eliminated."

	"You mean, the Terrible Thinker told you to kill me," the War 
Admiral translated. "Not very surprising. A harbinger of the gentle 
dictatorship he intends to impose on the galaxy."

	"If it were up to me, I wouldn't do this," said the clone, with 
genuine regret.

	"You're a person," said the War Admiral. "You have a choice."

	The clone's finger tightened on one of the triggers. He matched 
stares with the War Admiral. His finger tightened further...

	and then relaxed. He tossed one of the blasters to the War 
Admiral. "The hanger bay is two hundred meters to the south. I'll 
create a distraction-"

	"I'm afraid we can't let you do that, sir," said a new voice.

	The clone turned to see two guards with blasters drawn. 

	"What are you doing here?"
	"We have orders to liquidate the War Admiral immediately."

	So much for the Terrible Thinker trusting the clone to do it 
himself!

	"I'm in command here," roared the clone. "Lower your weapons."

	"I'm afraid I can't do that, sir," said the guard. "Please stand 
out of the way, sir."

	The War Admirals raised their blasters and fired just as the 
guards did. The War Admiral was hit and fell to the ground, with a 
smoking hole in his chest. The other War Admiral gunned down the two 
guards. 

	The War Admiral reached down to the dying War Admiral. "...So 
much more I wanted to tell you," he rasped. 

	"You don't have to," said the War Admiral. "I know." 

	The War Admiral closed his eyes and his body went limp.

	The War Admiral, the one who hadn't been shot, returned to his 
quarters in a rage. The holo of the Terrible Thinker was waiting for 
him. 

	"I knew you couldn't do it," said the Terrible Thinker calmly.

	"I don't want you countermanding my orders again!" said the War 
Admiral.

	"I'll do what's best for our goals," said the Terrible Thinker 
sternly. "I know you're upset now, but when you give it some time, 
you'll realize it was necessary."

	"I'll decide what is necessary!" roared the War Admiral.

	"I can see you're upset," said the Terrible Thinker. "We can talk 
about the rest of the campaign later."

	"Yes, later," said the War Admiral.

	The image of the Terrible Thinker faded.

	

*****



	"Your imposter War Admiral is dead," said the holo from the 
clone's ship. "I suggest you surrender."

	Croft raised an eyebrow. "I don't think so."

	"I'm coming back to August," the holo declared. "If any of your 
ships are there when I arrive, I will show no mercy."

	

	As the clone's fleet headed towards August, the image of the 
Terrible Thinker reappeared in the clone's quarters.

	"What are you doing?" said the Thinker. "I didn't authorize 
this."

	"No, you didn't," said the War Admiral. "I'm going to end this 
war right now."

	"You're acting rashly."

	"There's no one with the brain to oppose me," said the War 
Admiral. "What do I have to fear?"

	"Your fleet is still in a precarious state. Prudence would 
suggest-"

	The War Admiral terminated the connection, and the holo of the 
Terrible Thinker faded.



******

	"We're approaching August orbit, sir," said the navigator.

	"Good," said the War Admiral, seated in his chair. He checked the 
tactical display. The enemy fleet was there, waiting for them. "Open a 
transmission to our fleet."

	"Channel open, sir."

	"This is War Admiral Norman North," said the War Admiral. "Facing 
us is the fleet of the provisional government. Under my authority as 
leader of this fleet, I am ordering all ships to lower your shields and 
forcescreens and surrender. You will not be harmed; I have assurances 
you will all be treated fairly."

	There were gasps on the bridge, which were undoubtedly echoed 
across the fleet. The holoimage of the Terrible Thinker immediately 
appeared on the bridge. "Arrest War Admiral Norman North!" the Terrible 
Thinker declared.

	Guards came forward, blasters drawn.

	The War Admiral raised an eyebrow. "Back to your posts."

	The bridge crew stared at this scene opened mouth. What would the 
guards do?

	"Arrest him now!" the Thinker barked.
	The guards raised their weapons. Suddenly, the guards were tossed 
against the wall, and with a smack and a roll fell to the ground, 
unconscious.

	A medium sized blue animal with whiskers and a bowtie suddenly 
materialized next to the War Admiral's chair. "I so abhor violence," 
said the animal. "Please do not make me demonstrate it any further."

	The War Admiral checked the tactical display.  A handful of his 
ships had refused the order, firing back on the approaching ships of 
the provisional government; but they were small in number. Most of his 
ships were complying with the order, or were running away. The fleet, 
the clone's fleet, had effectively ceased to exist. He felt a surge of 
satisfaction that lasted long after the first of the space marines from 
the provisional government arrived on the bridge.





	"Of course the Capybara and I had it planned all along," Croft 
told the War Admiral. The real War Admiral. "I told you it was a trap."

	"He was ready to help us," said the War Admiral. "He took a 
blaster shot that was meant for me."

	"He accidentally got hit in the line of fire while trying to save 
you," said Croft. "That's still a long way from saying that he had 
become a peaceful moderate."

	"It was such a shame. I could have helped him," said the War 
Admiral. "In some ways, we were alike."

	"But in the important ways, you were different," Croft noted.

	The War Admiral nodded.

	Croft turned to the Meddler. "Good job, rat."

	The Meddler, ignoring the slur, self-consciously adjusted his 
bowtie.

	"So you planned to let me get captured, and switch me with the 
other War Admiral," said the War Admiral.

	"Yes," said Croft.

	"Why didn't you bother to tell me about this plan, considering 
that I had not a small measure of involvement in it?" the War Admiral 
asked.

	"We felt that sentimentality might cloud your judgment," said 
Croft. "We didn't plan to kill your counterpart; the Terrible Thinker 
handled that himself."
	"Yes," said the War Admiral, his face darkening. "I have a score 
to settle with him, one of these days."
	"So do most of us," said Croft. "He's gone back into hiding. But 
for now the important thing is that the provisional government is 
saved, and the Standard Republic is well on its way to being ratified."

	"That's good," said the War Admiral. He looked at the stars, out 
of a window.

	"What was it like?" Croft asked.

	"What?"
	"Being.... cured."

	The War Admiral shook his head. "I don't remember much of it. In 
fact, most of the past 20 years is a blur. I feel... like I've woken up 
from a deep sleep. For me, it seems like just yesterday I was running 
the Standard Imperium."

	"Do you think the Standard Republic will do a good job of 
safeguarding our security?" Croft asked.

	The War Admiral shrugged. "We'll be around. We'll keep watch."

	"I'd like a vacation, sometime," said Croft.

	"I know a great place," said the Meddler brightly. "I know an 
uninhabited planet, with more varieties of wild peanuts than you can 
count-"

	"Sounds great," said Croft. "Why don't we meet there, in about 
twenty years?"

	"Your sarcasm is as (tweatle tweatle) unwelcome as always," said 
the Meddler. "Can't you express any gratitude? I did rescue and cure 
your (tweatle tweatle) military leader, preventing the destruction of 
your fleet and saving your fledgling (tweatle tweatle) government, as 
you know."

	"You did do all of those things," said Croft.

	"So?"

	"It's just your air of superiority that rubs me the wrong way," 
said Croft.

	"I apologize," said the Meddler.

	"You do?" Croft was incredulous.

	"Yes," said the Meddler. "In the future, I will try to better 
conceal my superiority."

	"For such a supposedly advanced species, you sure have a lot to 
learn about interpersonal skills," said Croft.

	"I am not a person," said the Meddler.

	"Thanks for reminding me, rat," said Croft.

	The Meddler harrumped, and trotted out of the room.

	"I think you hurt his feelings," said the War Admiral.

	"Yes, very sad," said Croft. He gave a broad smile; not only had 
the Terrible Thinker been once again defeated, but he had also finally 
gotten the last word with the snooty Capybara.







The End





Appendix: The Story of Nimrod



Editor's Note: This is the first book to introduce another of the 
Silencer's brothers, Nimrod Norman. If you've read my series you 
already know about the Silencer (John Norman), the Whisperer (Martin 
Norman), and the Ken Pilot (David Norman). I thought it might be 
appropriate to provide a background story for Nimrod. Here it is.



Many, many years earlier:



	"Nimrod is a stupid name," said Mrs. Norman. She clutched a small 
child to her ample bosom.

	"You got to name Martin," said Mr. Norman petulantly.  "You 
didn't see me complaining about the name Martin."

	"What's wrong with Martin?" demanded Mrs. Norman.

	"I want to name him Nimrod," said Mr. Norman firmly.

	"He's going to be picked on in school," said Mrs. Norman, 
frowning as she said it.

	"It will only make him tougher," said Mr. Norman resolutely.

	"That's the most important thing for you, isn't it?" said Mrs. 
Norman.

	"Grafton II isn't a playground. Our children will need to be able 
to defend themselves," said Mr. Norman. "If he's tough, it won't matter 
if his name is trash heap, the other kids will be too afraid to make 
fun of him."

	"That's really what you want, another son like John," said Mrs. 
Norman. "He's so grim."

	"Tough, you mean," said Mr. Norman.

	"All right, call him Nimrod. But you're going to be responsible 
for all the psychological harm that will be inflicted on him," said 
Mrs. Norman.

	"Nag nag nag," said Mr. Norman.

	



A few years later:

	Nimrod was crying in his mother's arms.

	"There there," said Mrs. Norman.

	"What's wrong with him?" said Mr. Norman.

	"The boys at school keep shooting him with their training 
blasters," said Mrs. Norman.

	"Then he should shoot them back," said Mr. Norman. The solution 
seemed so simple.

	"I don't want to," said Nimrod, in a little boy's voice. Well, he 
was a little boy, so that made sense.
	"What?" said Mr. Norman, as if he hadn't understood what was 
said.

	"I don't want to shoot a gun," said Nimrod.

	"Don't ever say that in this house!" Mr. Norman roared. "I'm not 
raising a wimpy child!" And he stormed off.

	"Nimrod, look at me," said Mrs. Norman.

	Nimrod slowly matched gazes with his mother.

	"A gun is your friend," said Mrs. Norman. "It's a tool, a 
helper."

	"I don't want a stupid gun," said Nimrod.

	Mrs. Norman couldn't conceal her surprise. "Hush!" she said. "And 
don't ever, ever call a gun stupid, especially around your father."

	"But I don't want to shoot a gun," said Nimrod.

	The boy doesn't want to shoot a gun? All Graftonite boys loved to 
shoot guns. If not guns, what else could interest him? "What do you 
want to do, then?" Mrs. Norman asked.

	"Well..." the boy looked shy. "I do like making light 
sculptures."

	"Light sculptures," said Mrs. Norman, looking uncertain.

	Nimrod started to cry again.

	"What's wrong?" said Mrs. Norman.

	"They call me.... a name..."

	"What?" said Mrs. Norman. "What do the boys call you?"

	"They call me..." the boy struggled to speak through sobs. "They 
call me... Peaceful Norman."

	This was worse than she had initially thought.

	Mrs. Norman raised her voice. "John!"

	There was no reply.

	"John!" she said again.

	Nimrod's older brother, who would later come to be known as the 
Silencer, entered the room. "What is it?"
	"Why is it I must always call you twice, young man?"
	"For emphasis?" John said, his lack of caring very clear in his 
tone.

	"Don't get fresh with me, young man," said Mrs. Norman. "Your 
brother Nimrod is having some trouble in school."

	"Everyone knows that," said John, rolling his eyes.

	"Well, it's good that you know then. Because I am assigning you 
to protect him."

	"Me? Oh, no-"

	"Oh yes," said Mrs. Norman. "He's your younger brother, and you 
have a responsibility to protect him."

	"Why is it my responsibility? I didn't decide to have a younger 
brother," said John. "Now, if you're talking about paying me something-
"

	"For the last time, we are not raising your allowance to get you 
to protect your brother. Now, I want you to spread the word in school 
that if anyone, anyone touches Nimrod, that they'll have to answer to 
you. And if I hear that anyone has, you will have to answer to me. 
Remember, you're getting to be a good marksman, young man, but you're 
still not as good with a training blaster as I am."
	"But Mom-" John protested.

	"Are we clear?" Mrs. Norman asked.
	"But Mom-" John tried to say again.
	"Are we clear?" Mrs. Norman cut him off again.

	"We're clear," said John sullenly.

	"Good," said Mrs. Norman.



Some fifty years later....



	Superspy Clifford Croft watched a kingdom fall to pieces in front 
of his own eyes. He was on the planet Moldolva, a small, independent 
planet located strategically between the League and the Slurian Union. 
Croft was in a meeting with the Primer Minister, Mayoro Marko, when it 
happened.

	"I hear what you are saying, Mr. Goft, but we are just not ready 
to align ourselves with the League," said Marko.

	"If you hear what I'm saying, then you should be ready," said 
Croft. He held up a datapad. "Slurian units are taking up position 
around your solar system." He showed dots on the screen with notations 
by each indicating the presence of ships in the area.

	Marko was unconvinced by Croft's dots. "It is mere posturing, Mr. 
Goft," said Marko. "The Slurians would never invade. We are no threat 
to them."

	"They don't care if you're a threat," said Croft, trying hard to 
keep the 'you're a complete idiot' tone out of his voice. "They will 
occupy your planet simply because they can. You're not a member of the 
League, they know there will be no consequences if they do."
	"Of course there will be consequences! We will resist any 
invasion!" said Prime Minister Marko.

	"How will you do that?" Croft wanted to know.  "You don't have an 
army. You have heavy taxes on your population, but most of your money 
is spent on artwork."

	Prime Minister Marko looked personally insulted. "Don't disparage 
the public subsidy of art, Mr. Goft. Our funding has made Moldova the 
premier cultural destination in the galaxy."

	"As well as the most expensive place to live," said Croft. "And 
soon to be the most dangerous."

	"I think you are using this supposed threat to coerce us into 
joining your League," said Marko. "Once in your League, you will 
further force us to spend money on arms."

	"You don't have to worry, the League will never ask you to 
contribute to your own defense," said Croft wearily. "I know from 
experience."

	But Marko was resolute. "I simply cannot believe that the 
Slurians would invade. What are they going to do, just march in the 
door and-"

	Suddenly the giant double doors (with very artisticly carved 
wooden handles) were flung open, and uniformed soldiers stepped in. 
Croft looked out of a finely glazed window to see transports screaming 
across the sky.

	"What... what is this?" Marko said.

	"Your invasion," said Croft wearily.

	A man in plainclothes entered the room, flanked by armed guards 
in equally plainclothes who formed an inner perimeter around the 
Slurian soldiers. Their leader spoke.

	"My name is General Ilush Bonshura of the Slurian Civil 
Administration."

	"NGB," Croft translated.

	"Who is this man?" said General Bonshura, giving Croft a hostile 
stare.

	"I am Prime Minister Mayoro Marko," said Marko. "What are you 
doing here?"

	"We have answered your call for protection," said General 
Bonshura.

	"What call for protection?" Marko asked, sounding and looking 
confused.

	Bonshura had the ready response. "We received a call from your 
office fearing a League invasion and asking for our assistance."
	"We made no such call!" said Bonshura. "Let me see a copy of that 
supposed transmission."

	"I'm sure we will be able to procure a copy of that, in time," 
said General Bonshura.

	"That means they haven't fabricated it yet," said Croft, still 
providing running subtitles for the Slurianspeak.

	"Who is this man?" General Bonshura asked again.

	"If you do not leave immediately, I will be forced to make a 
formal protest to your government!"

	"That will stop them," Croft predicted.

	"You are now under the protection of the Slurian Union," said 
General Bonshura, ignoring both of them. "You will continue to enjoy 
the fruits of local autonomy, subject to our guidance. What follows is 
a list of rules and regulations to be obeyed." He handed Marko a 
datapad. Marko started to scroll through it. It was a long list.

	"These, of course, are only the initial regulations," said 
Bonshura.

	Marko looked at the soldiers around him. "I... I will have to 
convene a meeting of the legislature to debate this."

	"Of course. We will help you to convene a meeting of the 
legislature later today to ratify this," said Bonshura.

	"We cannot possibly convene a meeting so quickly, under these 
circumstances-"

	"We will assist you in this regard," the General assured him.

	"Sluria is always quick to offer democratic assistance," said 
Croft.

	Bonshura pointed a finger at Croft. "For the last time, who is 
this man?" Bonshura thundered.

	"His name is Gifford Goft," said the Prime Minister. "He is with 
the League-"

	Bonshura cut him off with a hand swiping motion as an aide 
brought a datapad to his attention. The datapad contained a name and a 
photo. Bonshura held it up and compared it to Croft with his beady 
little eyes. After some back and forth comparisons, he was ready to 
make a declaration.

	"You are a spy," Bonshura declared. "Your real name is Clifford 
Croft." He paused, as the implications sunk in. "Gifford Goft? What 
kind of a ridiculous cover name is that?"

	"Tell me about it!" said Croft, sounding relieved. "I have so 
much trouble remembering my cover name that I picked ones that began 
with the same letter. But I even had trouble remembering those so now I 
just pick ones that rhyme with my real name."

	"What kind of a spy are you?" Bonshura asked.

	Croft just gave a knowing smile.

	Bonshura refocused on the main theme. He declared, "This man is 
known to us." He turned to his guards. "Take him into custody," said 
Bonshura. Two aides stepped forward, their blasters drawn.

	"Hold on," said Prime Minister Marko.  "This man is a diplomatic 
representative of the League! You cannot simply detain a credited 
diplomat!"

	"This man is a spy," Bonshura repeated.

	"Why can't I be both?" said Croft. "Your men usually are."

	"He has diplomatic immunity," said Marko. "You can't just grab 
him."

	"We are lifting diplomatic immunity in his case," said General 
Bonshura.

	"How can you? You haven't yet convened a session of the 
legislature," said Croft.

	"I do it on my own authority!" said General Bonshura.

	"It's one thing for the Moldovan's to detain me, illegally," said 
Croft. "That makes it an issue between them, and the League. If you 
detain me, that's a direct issue between the League and Sluria. Are you 
sure you're ready for that? You didn't do quite so well in your last 
war."

	Bonshura paused. "This is pointless! Who would even know who is 
detaining you?"

	"I would!" said Marko defiantly. 

	Bonshura stared at Marko. His thoughts weren't hard for Croft to 
discern. He was trying to weigh the merits of liquidating Marko.

 	Croft tried to derail that calculation. "If you want to act, you 
have to act with legal authority. Until the legislature meets, the laws 
you seek to impose on Moldova have no legal effect."

	Bonshura paused, considering the costs and benefits of conforming 
to legal niceties versus letting Croft roam free, even for a short 
time. Finally, he nodded.

	"Very well," said Bonshura. "We will wait until this afternoon 
when the law is changed."

	"I'm glad to see Sluria showing some respect for the legal 
process," said Croft, without a trace of irony.

	Bonshura moved closer to Croft. "Do not think you will escape so 
easily, little spy."

	Croft gave an innocent smile and cautiously started to walk 
through the crowd of soldiers and NGB agents. They stared at him 
sullenly but did nothing.

	As he exited, Croft said, "Finally I've found something good 
about being a diplomat."


	Back at the League embassy, officials there didn't have to be 
told what was happening.  Officials were hurriedly purging the memory 
of their computers and shoving documents into atomizers. Croft spoke to 
the ambassador. "You'd all better get out of here now."

	"We've arranged a transport for tonight," said the ambassador.

	"They're changing the laws this afternoon. If you're smart, 
you'll get out now," said Croft.

	The ambassador looked uncomfortable.

	"What's wrong?" said Croft. "Are there some League citizens 
unaccounted for?"

	"No, that's not the problem," said the Ambassador. The 'do not 
travel' warning had gone out several weeks ago, and most sensible 
League citizens had heeded it.

	"One of our embassy staff is unaccounted for," said the 
ambassador.

	"Who?"
	"The cultural attache."

	The ambassador spoke rapidly. Normally the cultural attache was a 
spy, but in this case the cultural attache was really a cultural 
attache. At this moment he was touring some light sculptures at a local 
university.

	"When are you expecting him back?" Croft asked.

	"An hour ago," said the ambassador.

	"I'll get him," Croft grimaced. "Meet me at the transport in two 
hours."

	"From what you say the Slurians will be looking for you," said 
the ambassador.

	"Two hours," Croft repeated.

	"Impossible," said the Ambassador. "We can hardly even begin to 
pack our clothes-"

	"Ambassador, if you stay here much longer, the Slurians are 
likely to shoot us."

	"Do you think they would provoke an interstellar incident?" said 
the Ambassador.

	"Ambassador, they've just invaded this planet," said Croft. 

	"You have a point," said the Ambassador.

	"Two hours," said Croft. He obtained the address for the 
institute the cultural attache was visiting.



	The Institute for the Study of Higher Light Sculptures was 
located several miles from the League embassy. The cultural attache was 
at that moment huddled with a group of students, many of them from 
other planets, who had come to study at the institute. A group of 
Slurian soldiers were barking orders at them.

	One of the students was a teenager named Nimrod Norman.

	"Stand up against the wall and empty your pockets," the Slurian 
officer snarled.

	The students did as they were ordered, all except one. No, Nimrod 
was not the protestor; he meekly emptied his pockets along with most of 
the others. The Slurian soldiers took the items from their pockets, 
mostly identification and data credit pads, and put them in a sack. 
When the Slurians reached the student who hadn't emptied his pockets, 
the Slurian snarled. "Empty your pockets, now!"

	"No!" said the student. "I will not facilitate your petty 
thievery!"

	"You are foreigners, spies, you can be shot!" said the officer.

	"Maybe you'd better do what he says," said Nimrod.

	"No!" said the student. "You and your invaders are the ones who 
are the foreigners here!"

	"Comply or face the consequences," the officer snarled.

	"There is no need for violence here," said Nimrod, stepping 
forward.

	The officer struck Nimrod in his face and he fell to the ground.

	"I am not going to let you rob me," the student repeated.

	"I have run out of patience! Execute this spy!" the officer 
snarled.

	One of the soldiers raised his blaster and fired. The student 
fell to the ground.

	Nimrod's jaw dropped.  He sat there on the ground, staring. 

	"Does anyone else want to give us any trouble?" said the officer.

	"Sir, this one is not a student," said a soldier. He pointed to 
the ID of the cultural attache. "This one is an official from the 
League."

	The officer looked at the diplomatic ID. "A spy!" His eyes grew 
wide. "I will execute this one myself." He started to raise his 
blaster.

	Suddenly Nimrod, who was on the ground, was standing up, and the 
officer's blast pistol was snatched from his hand. One of the soldiers 
turned to aim his blaster rifle at Nimrod, and there was a flash of 
light, and the soldier fell to the ground.

	Other soldiers turned to aim at Nimrod, but as they aimed, each 
was shot an instant before they could fire. In a moment the students 
were surrounded by the bodies of seven soldiers, and the officer.

	"Who are you?" said the officer.

	"My name is Nimrod Norman," said Nimrod, in a cold tone that no 
one, including himself, had ever heard before.

	Someone came running into the room, a blaster in hand. Nimrod 
easily swung to aim at the newcomer. 

	The newcomer seemed to take in the scene instantly, seeing the 
fallen Slurian soldiers. "Don't shoot," he said. "I'm here to help."

	"Who are you?" said one of the students.

	"My name is Clifford Croft," said Croft. "I'm here from the 
League to rescue a certain cultural attache."

	"That would be me," said the attache.

	"Croft," the officer whispered. He had heard of that name on the 
military information network. This was a highly wanted man. Slowly his 
hand snaked behind his back....

	"Who shot all these Slurians?"
	"I did," said Nimrod, without a note of regret in his voice.

	The officer whipped out a blaster, aiming for Nimrod. But he 
might as well have been moving in slow motion, because Nimrod shot him 
in the head before he had the weapon half raised. 

	"I heard the name Nimrod Norman when I came into this room," said 
Croft.  "Having just seen you in action, is there any chance you might 
be related to someone known as the Silencer?"

	"My brother," said Nimrod in a low key way.

	"Your brother," said Croft. Suddenly it became clear.  He turned 
to the attache. "We've got a ship waiting, but we've got to go now."

	"Can't we all go with you?" Nimrod asked.

	Croft was about to say no, but something in Nimrod's expression 
changed his mind. "Of course," he found himself saying. "But we're 
likely to face opposition before we get to the spaceport. "

	"I don't believe in violence or shooting," said Nimrod.

	"Ahhh...." With his eyes, Croft looked at the bodies around him.

	"That was an exception," said Nimrod. "This was the first time 
I've ever shot anyone."

	"Really?" said Croft. He looked around again. "You have a natural 
talent."

	"Croft," said the attache urgently.

	"Right," said Croft. "Let's go."

	They commandeered several aircars and headed for the spaceport.

	At the first checkpoint they reached, Croft, in the lead car, 
slowed down. "Let me do the talking,"

	As the aircar stopped, Nimrod fired off a series of blaster 
bolts. They seemed to be fired almost randomly, but each one hit their 
target, and all the Slurians fell to the ground. Croft could tell from 
the splash effect that the blaster had been set for stun.

	Croft looked at Nimrod. "I thought you didn't shoot anyone."
	"I've decided that stun is ok, for emergencies."

	"Quick thinking," said Croft.

	With a little more help from Nimrod, they made it to the 
spaceport. When they reached the gate they found eight guards, spread 
out on either side of the gate.

	"Halt!" said one of the guards.

	"We're with the League embassy, part of the evacuation," said 
Croft.

	The guard's eyes narrowed. "Their convoy entered the gate several 
minutes ago. Let me see your identification pads."

	"There really is no need for that," said Croft.

	The guards tensed up. "Your IDs!"

	Nimrod, or Peaceful, as he was called, stood up in the aircar and 
let forth a burst of blaster fire. Four of them were down before they 
noticed what was happening. Nimrod cooly dodged to the side as two 
blaster bolts came near him. Nimrod took care of numbers five and six 
while Croft got seven, and was aiming for guard number eight when 
Nimrod shot him as well.

	"You're incredible!" said Croft. "You may be as good as the 
Silencer!"

	"Please don't spread that around. I don't want my reputation 
ruined by people who say I'm a warmonger." Nimrod said it quietly, but 
he held a smoking blaster as he said it.

	"Sure," said Croft, feeling uneasy about the tone.

	They headed for the transport. The embassy staff were all aboard, 
and they boarded quickly.

	"Who are these other people?" the ambassador asked Croft, as the 
students boarded. When Croft explained the ambassador shook his head. 
"No, we can't take them."

	"Explain that to him," said Croft, standing aside so the 
ambassador could see Nimrod.

	"Is there some problem here?" said Nimrod softly.

	In moments the ship was airborne.

	The ship was heading towards orbit when they detected two Slurian 
battleships moving to intercept them. A moment later came the 
inevitable transmission from General Bonshura.

	"League transport, power down your engines and return to the 
spaceport," said Bonshura.

	"On whose authority?" Croft said.

	"On mine," said Bonshura, smiling.

	"You don't represent the elected government," said Croft. "You're 
a Slurian NGB General."

	"And now also the new minister of state security for Moldova," 
Bonshura smiled.

	Oh oh. The Moldovan parliament must have been meeting in 
overtime, with Slurian help.

	"We are sovereign citizens of the League," said Croft. "Do not 
interfere with our departure."

	"You, Clifford Croft, are wanted on charges of spying, espionage, 
and most recently murder," said Bonshura. The men who Nimrod shot at 
the institute must have been found.  "Return, or we will blow your ship 
out of the sky."

	Croft could make out two tiny dots in the distance. The 
battleships. They grew larger, and in moments Croft could start to make 
out their shape. They would be in firing range in seconds.

	"I don't think so," said Croft. He pressed a button. "I'm 
transmitting this to the League. Attacking a neutral planet is one 
thing; if you attack us, formal representatives of the League, you risk 
a war with the League."

	Bonshura made a signal. "We are jamming all outbound 
transmissions."

	The battleships could be quite clearly seen now.

	"Yes, if I were using standard civilian or military signals, that 
would probably be true," said Croft. "But my technology is a little 
more subtle than that."

	"You're bluffing," said Bonshura. He paused. "The League are 
cowards. They wouldn't go to war over one ship."

	The battleships loomed large. They were just about at the closest 
point now.

	"Are you sure?" said Croft. "You're certainly risking war. What 
will your superiors say when you put them in a position that even 
carries the risk of war?"

	Bonshura wet his lips. Evidently he had a good idea.

	They were now at their closest point to the battleships. They 
could almost make out the gunports. Slowly they started to pull away. 
If they were going to open fire, it was going to be now.

	Croft watched without obvious emotion.

	Bonshura's face contorted, but he said, "Very well! It is 
probably better that all your spies leave. They are not welcome here!" 
The signal faded.

	Nimrod, who was standing in the background, said, "You're very 
good at that."

	"I've had some practice," said Croft. He turned to face Nimrod 
directly. "Nimrod, eh?"
	"Call me Peaceful," said Nimrod.



The End



Author's Notes May 1st, 2005

	Like most of my Croft novels, this novel (my 19th, actually) was 
written in an unusual order. First I wrote the beginning, then the 
whole second half of the novel, and then I worked my way forwards and 
backwards until I got to the middle. I most enjoyed writing the stories 
of the War Admiral, the Meddler Capybara, and the Silencer, and found 
those the easiest to write. You may be sad to lose the Silencer, but if 
all the major characters survive in every book there's no dramatic 
tension. Also remember, the Silencer has not one or even two but three 
brothers, not to mention Annie Oakley.  This book also takes place 
relatively late in the series, so there is a lot of backstory I could 
write about the Silencer, if I wanted to.

	This will likely be last my Croft novel for a while. I have tied 
up a lot of loose ends that were lingering from "Rise of the Standard 
Imperium", and while I have ideas that could be developed into other 
books, I need a break from the Croft novels for a while. I've completed 
about a third of the first of my two "alternate left wing/right wing" 
reality books, and will probably work on those next. But I also do 
animated cartoons now (see www.joking.com) so have increased 
competition for my free time. 



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