LITMIR.BIZ

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Watson said. “We haven’t it to give.”

      “You know what I mean. It wouldn’t take long to extend the life span double or triple the present.”

      Amschel Mayer said, “At this stage progress is faster with the generations closer together. A man is pressed when he knows he has only twenty or thirty years of peak efficiency. We on Earth are inclined to settle back and take life as it comes; you younger men are all past the century mark, but none have bothered to get married as yet.”

      “Plenty of time for that,” Watson grinned.

      “That’s what I mean. But a Texcocan or Genoese feels pressed to wed in his twenties, or earlier, to get his family under way.”

      “There’s another element,” Plekhanov muttered. “The more the natives progress the more nearly they’ll equal our abilities. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to our overall plans. As it is now, their abilities taper off at sixty and they reach senility at seventy or eighty. I think until the end we should keep it this way.”

      “A cold-blooded view,” Kennedy said. “If we extended their life expectancy, their best men would live to be of additional use to planet development.”

      “But they would not have our dream,” Plekhanov rumbled. “Such men might try to subvert us, and, just possibly, might succeed.”

      “I think Leonid is right,” Mayer admitted with reluctance.

      * * * *

      Later, in the space lighter heading back for Genoa, Mayer said speculatively, “Did you notice anything about Leonid Plekhanov?”

      Kennedy was piloting. “He seems the same irascible old curmudgeon he’s always been.”

      “It seems to me he’s become a touch power mad. Could the pressures he’s under cause his mind to slip? Obviously, all isn’t peaches and cream in that attempt of his to achieve world government on Texcoco.”

      “Well,” Kennedy muttered, “all isn’t peaches and cream with us, either. The barons are far from licked, especially in the west.” He changed the subject. “By the way, that banking deal went through in Pola. I was able to get control.”

      “Fine,” Mayer chuckled. “You must be quite the richest man in the city. There is a certain stimulation in this financial game, Jerry, isn’t there?”

      “Uh huh,” Jerry told him. “Of course, it doesn’t hurt to have a marked deck.”

      “Marked deck?” the other frowned.

      “It’s handy that gold is the medium of exchange on Genoa,” Jerry Kennedy said. “Especially in view of the fact that we have a machine on the ship capable of transmuting metals.”

      VI.

      Leonid Plekhanov, Joseph Chessman, Barry Watson, Khan Reif and several of the Tulan army staff stood on a small knoll overlooking a valley of several square miles. A valley dominated on all sides but the sea by mountain ranges.

      Reif and the three Earthlings were bent over a military map depicting the area. Barry Watson traced with his finger.

      “There are only two major passes into this valley. We have this one, they dominate that.”

      Plekhanov was scowling, out of his element and knowing it. “How many men has Mynor been able to get together?”

      Watson avoided looking into the older man’s face. “Approximately half a million according to Hawkins’ estimate. He flew over them this morning.”

      “Half a million!”

      “Including the nomads, of course,” Joe Chessman said. “The nomads fight more like a mob than an army.”

      Plekhanov was shaking his massive head. “Most of them will melt away if we continue to avoid battle. They can’t feed that many men on the countryside. The nomads in particular will return home if they don’t get a fight soon.”

      Watson hid his impatience. “That’s the point, sir. If we don’t break their power now, in a decisive defeat, we’ll have them to fight again, later. And already they’ve got iron swords, the crossbow and even a few muskets. Given time and they’ll all be so armed. Then the fat’ll be in the fire.”

      “He’s right,” Joe Chessman said sourly.

      Reif nodded his head. “We must finish them now, if we can. The task will be twice as great next year.”

      Plekhanov grumbled in irritation. “Half a million of them and something like forty thousand of our Tulans.”

      Reif corrected him. “Some thirty thousand Tulans, all infantrymen.” He added, “And eight thousand allied cavalry only some of whom can be trusted.” Reif’s ten-year-old son came up next to him and peered down at the map.

      “What’s that child doing here?” Plekhanov snapped.

      Reif looked into the other’s face. “This is Taller Second, my son. You from First Earth have never bothered to study our customs. One of them is that a Khan’s son participates in all battles his father does. It is his training.”

      Watson was pointing out features on the map again. “It will take three days for their full army to get in here.” He added with emphasis, “In retreat, it would take them the same time to get out.”

      Plekhanov scowled heavily. “We can’t risk it. If we were defeated, we have no reserve army. We’d have lost everything.” He looked at Joe Chessman and Watson significantly. “We’d have to flee back to the Pedagogue.”

      Reif’s face was expressionless.

      Barry Watson looked at him. “We won’t desert you, Reif, forget about that aspect of it.”

      Reif said, “I believe you, Barry Watson. You are a…soldier.”

      Dick Hawkins’ small biplane zoomed in, landed expertly at the knoll’s foot. The occupant vaulted out and approached them at a half run.

      Hawkins called as soon as he was within shouting distance. “They’re moving in. Their advance cavalry units are already in the pass.”

      When he was with them, Plekhanov rubbed his hand nervously over heavy lips. He rumbled, “The cavalry, eh? Listen, Hawkins, get back there and dust them. Use the gas.”

      The pilot said slowly, “I have four bullet holes in my wings.”

      “Bullet holes!” Joe Chessman snapped.

      Hawkins turned to him. “By the looks of things, MacBride’s whole unit has gone over to the rebels. Complete with their double-barreled muskets. A full thousand of them.”

      Watson looked frigidly at Leonid Plekhanov. “You insisted on issuing guns to men we weren’t sure of.”

      Plekhanov grumbled, “Confound it, don’t use that tone of voice with me. We have to arm our men, don’t we?”

      Watson said, “Yes, but our still comparatively few advanced weapons shouldn’t go into the hands of anybody but trusted citizens of the State, certainly not to a bunch of mercenaries. The only ones we can really trust even among the Tulans, are those that were kids when we first took over. The one’s we’ve had time to indoctrinate.”

      “The mistake’s made. It’s too late now,” Plekhanov said. “Hawkins go back and dust those cavalrymen as they come through the pass.”

      Reif said, “It was a mistake, too, to allow them the secret of the crossbow.”

      Plekhanov roared, “I didn’t allow them anything. Once the crossbow was introduced it was just a matter of time before its method of construction got to the enemy.”

      “Then it shouldn’t have been introduced,” Reif said, his eyes unflinching from the Earthman’s.

      Plekhanov ignored him. He said, “Hawkins, get going on that

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