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came out. As to who I
am, I am Soncoro, Minister of Agriculture."
Trelig barely suppressed a chuckle. "And the man who really makes all the
decisions around here," he stated flatly.
Soncoro liked that. "And what brings you to that conclusion?"
"Because the guard sent me to the minister of agriculture, not the prime
minister, king, or even state security. You were his first and only choice.
Those types know who's who."
Soncoro nodded. "I think I'm going to like you, Trelig. We're two of a kind.
I like you-and
I'll never trust you. You understand that. Just as you wouldn't trust me, in
reversed circumstances."
Trelig did understand. "I'm much too new to be a threat, Soncoro. Let's say a
partnership until then."
The old man considered that. "Quite so. You understand what you have that we
want, don't you?
And why we are delighted and relieved that you are who you are?"
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"Because I can pilot a spaceship," the former syndicate boss replied easily.
"And because I'm able to open up everything on New Pompeii." Trelig felt
vastly relieved. He had been afraid that he would wind up in a water hex, or,
if not that, in a hex whose government had neither designs on New Pompeii nor
people like Soncoro. But then, he reflected, if we have a common beginning,
the odds were always in my favor.
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Trelig looked at the old man. "You're going after the one in the North?"
Soncoro shook his head. "No, that would involve almost insuperable obstacles.
We looked at it, of course. You went down a good ways in, in a nontech hex, so
we would not only have to get to it, and no Southerner has ever been into the
North, we would somehow have to move it close to two hundred kilometers to
make it flyable, then set it straight up so it would be well away before the
Well could snare it. And-this is equally important-to do it one would have to
pass through a number of hexes with life so alien one couldn't understand it,
control it, or trust it; and in some atmospheres that are lethal. No, I'm
afraid we leave your ship to the Uchjin."
"But the other ship isn't in one piece!" Trelig objected. "It was my own
ship. It would break up on the way in. The nine modules would be spread over
half the Well World!"
"They are," Soncoro admitted. "But, tell me, would you need all the modules
to make it fly again? Suppose you had a fabricating plant capable of building
an airtight central body? And a couple of good electrical engineers to help
do it right? What would you need then?"
Trelig was genuinely amazed. "With all that-probably the power plant and one
or two modules to make certain you fabricated the new parts correctly. And the
bridge, of course."
"Suppose you had the power plant and modules, but not the bridge?" Soncoro
prompted. "Could it be done?"
Trelig thought about it. "Not impossible, but a hell of a lot more difficult.
The computer guidance is there."
The old man nodded again. "But we have access to pretty good computers here.
If I understand it, it's not the machine itself, it's just its abilities,
programs, memory, and action time."
"And interface with the power plant," Trelig added.
"Not insolvable," Soncoro pronounced. He smiled wickedly. "Welcome to the
family."
"But where are you going to get all this?" Trelig protested. "I would guess
that if you could have a machine shop and computers here, you'd have them."
"Good point," Soncoro agreed. "But we won't be alone. What would you say if I
told you that four of the modules were within six hexes of this one, and the
power plant was seven hexes away?
And that we had allies-a semitech hex and a high-tech hex, with complementing
abilities?"
Trelig was intrigued. "But you're talking about a war!" he objected. "I
thought war was impossible here!"
"For conquest, yes," the old man admitted. "But not for limited objectives.
Dahla proved that you couldn't hold ground for any length of time here. But we
need only take it, take it long enough to get what we want, and move on.
Some.of the hexes are simple, anyway. They will yield to us or just ignore
us. Only a couple of them will be problems."
Trelig considered this, getting excited now. This development was beyond his
wildest dreams!
"But the ship should have come in at a definite angle. If five are
attainable, then all of them should be. Why limit it?"
"We're not the only ones in the game," the old Makiem told him. "Others are
moving now.
Perhaps we can deal later, but the power plant is the one thing completely
beyond our ability to construct. We have lots of spacefarers, but they are
technicians. You know how to pilot-but do you know how to build a ship?"
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"No," he admitted.
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"We haven't had a Type 41 pilot, though, in a very long time. None we can get
our hands on. I
assume that progress has made much of their skill obsolete anyway. Correct?"
"Probably," Trelig told him. "The power plants, and therefore the knowledge
of what to tell the computers to do, have changed radically just in my time."
"Then it's safe to say that only you, this associate, Yulin, and the woman,
Mavra Chang, could possibly pilot the ship properly?"
Trelig nodded honestly, although he was aware of how much that increased his
value. "If there are no human pilots here from as recent as a century, I'd
say, almost definitely."
Soncoro seemed tremendously pleased. He leaned forward again. "This fellow
Yulin. Is he trustworthy?"
Trelig grinned. "As trustworthy as I am."
Soncoro hissed. "As bad as that. That means there's little chance of a deal
there, then, unless we get the power plant."
"You know where he is?" Trelig asked, amazed.
"He is a Dasheen, and a male, damn it all! That will give him power there.
The Yaxa are already well along with their own plans, perhaps a bit ahead of
us, and he will naturally ally with them if he can. So, we go and as quickly
as possible. Whoever owns the power plant owns it all."
"Tell me two things," Trelig said persistently.
"Go ahead," the old man agreed.
"First, what would have happened if I hadn't materialized here as a Makiem?
You're talking as if you were going to war anyway, it was all set up. Did you
know?"
"Of course not!" responded the secret ruler of Makiem. "The way things worked
out only simplifies matters. We would have seized the modules anyway and
waited for one of you to come to us. You would have had to." His logic was
unassailable. "Now, what's the other thing?"
"How do you have sex in this place?" he asked.
Soncoro roared with laughter.
DASHEEN
Ben Yulin awoke with a start and opened his eyes.
His first thought was that the pain was gone, and he had feeling over his
whole body again.
That was a big relief in and of itself. But-where and what was he?
He sat up and looked around. Things were definitely different. He was
slightly nearsighted and totally color-blind. But he could see well enough to
tell he was in farm country; there was baled hay over there, nicely if crudely
done, and fences and small roads stretched off for miles in squarish patterns.
It was flat country, too; although his vision blurred beyond five hundred
meters or so, he could tell where the land and horizon met.
He looked down at himself. Broad, muscular, hairy long legs that looked
somewhat human, although the feet were strange-very wide and oval-shaped and
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