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been clear to you, sir, that after the Earth Ambassador—what’s his name, Unduma—after he returned to your planets last year, he was doing all he could to gain time.”
    “Oh, yes,” said Rusch. “Making offers to me, and then haggling over them—brewing trouble elsewhere to divert our attention—a gallant effort. But it didn’t work. Frankly, your dominance, you’ve only yourself to blame for the delays. For example, your insisting that Earth be administered as Kolreshite territory—”
    “My dear sir!” exploded Belug. “It was a talking point. Only a talking point. Any diplomatist would have understood. But you took six weeks to study it, then offered that preposterous counter-proposal that everything should revert to
you
, loot and territory both—Why, if you had been truly willing to co-operate, we could have settled the terms in a month!”
    “As you like, your dominance,” said Rusch carelessly. “It’s all past now. There are only these questions of troop transport and prisoners, then we’re in total agreement.”
    Klerak Belug narrowed his eyes and rubbed his chin with one outsize hand. “I do not comprehend,” he said, “and neither do my naval officers. We have regular transports for your men, nothing extraordinary in the way of comfort, to be sure, but infinitely more suitable for so long a voyage than…than the naval units you insist we use. Don’t you understand? A transport is for carrying men or cargo; a ship of the line is to fight or convoy. You do
not
mix the functions!”
    “I do, your dominance,” said Rusch. “As many of my soldiers as possible are going to travel on regular warships furnished by Kolresh, and there are going to be Double Kingdom naval personnel with them for liaison.”
    “But—” Belug’s fist closed on his wineglass as if to splinter it. “Why?” he roared.
    “My representatives have explained it a hundred times,” said Rusch wearily. “In blunt language, I don’t trust you. If…oh, let us say there should be disagreement between us while the armada is en route…well, a transport ship is easily replaced, after its convoy vessels have blown it up. The fighting craft of Kolresh are a better hostage for your good behavior.” He struck a light to his pipe. “Naturally, you can’t take our whole fifty-million-man expeditionary force on your battle wagons; but I want soldiers on every warship as well as in the transports.”
    Belug shook his ginger head. “No.”
    “Come now,” said Rusch. “Your spies have been active enough on Norstad and Ostarik. Have you found any reason to doubt my intentions? Bearing in mind that an army the size of ours cannot be alerted for a given operation without a great many people knowing the fact—”
    “Yes, yes,” grumbled Belug. “Granted.” He smiled, a sharp flash of teeth. “But the upper hand is mine, your lordship. I can wait indefinitely to attack Earth. You can’t.”
    “Eh?” Rusch drew hard on his pipe.
    “In the last analysis, even dictators rely on popular support. My Intelligence tells me you are rapidly losing yours. The queen has not spoken to you for a year, has she? And there are many Norrons whose first loyalty is to the Crown. As the thought of war with Earth seeps in, as men have time to comprehend how little they like the idea, time to see through your present anti-Terrestrial propaganda—they grow angry. Already they mutter about you in the beer halls and the officers’ clubs, they whisper in ministry cloakrooms. My agents have heard.
    “Your personal cadre of young key officers are the only ones left with unquestioning loyalty to you. Let discontent grow just a little more, let open revolt break out, and your followers will be hanged from the lamp posts.
    “You can’t delay much longer.”
    Rusch made no reply for a while. Then he sat up, his monocle glittering like a cold round window on winter.
    “I can always call off this plan and resume the normal state of affairs,”