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  “The word is they’re waiting only for Hytry to get back with your answer to his offer,” said Anjo. “After that, they’ll start hiring. As you say, it had to happen—given the answer you gave Hytry.”

  He hesitated.

  “So,” he said emptily, “your Friendlies are coming, and the revolution will happen.”

  “Not necessarily,” said Bleys. “Those troops may be made to help your cause, instead of working against it. Don’t be too quick to anticipate the worst. But a lot is going to depend on my getting back to Association in time to have a hand in making the agreement from that end. This is a matter that’s going to find its decision in Friendly politics, Anjo. Leave it to me and those with me, like Dahno here. But now we’ve got to finish my tour on a few more Worlds and get home to those same Friendlies without delay. If you want to save your World, start now on the arrangements to move us all from here to Favored of God.”

  Anjo nodded, got up and went out.

  “You expected this,” Dahno said.

  “Patterns—patterns of history. What have unpopular rulers done since time began when they feel threatened by their own people? Hired foreign troops to protect themselves. The Dorsai wouldn’t touch a contract where they acted as planetary policemen. They’ve made that clear for over a century. So,” said Bleys, “where else could they raise fifty thousand mercenaries nowadays, on short order, and for anything less than to defend their hold on their own world?”

  Chapter 16

  Three days later, they left their mountain retreat; and the second day following, Favored of God carried them spaceward.

  Five ship’s-days after that, they were on Harmony, and on the second day following their arrival Bleys was having a private breakfast with Darrel McKae, Bishop of the many Repentance Churches on Association—and even a few of the same name on Harmony—as well as Chief Speaker in the Chamber of Speakers on Association, where the laws of Harmony’s sister world were enacted.

  “…you knew I was on Harmony?” McKae was asking.

  “Yes,” said Bleys. “That’s why I came.”

  They were seated privately at a table surrounded by a roof garden, on the flat top of a building by the side of the ocean Harmonyites called Tranquillity—though it lived up to the name no more than most oceans in a planet’s tropical zone. The early warmth of Harmony’s summer was upon them, and the sky above was cloudless under the bright light of Epsilon Eridani.

  Only along the horizon, the dark band of approaching clouds, touched with momentary flashes, signaled a thunderstorm an hour or so away, and the tension of invisible electricity seemed to leap and judder soundlessly in the air between the two of them. Around and below them a small city seemed, by a freak of the approaching stormlight, to cower in the unnaturally still air, for even the regular sea breeze had failed.

  The city was called Worthy and had grown up around a plant to extract from the ocean minerals mat Harmony’s people needed badly. The plant had been a failure, but the original town built around it had survived and developed into a small, expensive seaside resort for those well off.

  “Then perhaps, I should be flattered,” said McKae, with a momentary effort toward a smile. There was a darkness in the skin under his eyes. “You must have been quite certain I wasn’t holding a grudge against you for that time you tried to sneak into my security force.”

  “As I remember, I succeeded,” Bleys said.

  “You did succeed,” said McKae. “But you didn’t do any harm. So I’ve never had any ill will toward you because of it—aside from the fact that ill will is foolish between people in the public eye, as we two are.”

  In turn, Bleys smiled. “I’m glad to hear that. It was only routine just now, then—my being searched for weapons or recording equipment when I arrived up here?”

  “Were you?” McKae said.

  “Yes.”

  On leaving the private elevator that had brought him straight to the penthouse, Bleys had stepped into a tiny room with two armed guards, who had directed him into a further room with more guards, through a doorway that showed a faint regular crack along the wall and floor sides of the door frame—unmistakable sign of a scanner for unwanted objects. The guards had further hand-searched him before they turned him over to the thin, obsequious man who was now serving them breakfast, dressed in sharply pressed and clean white shirt, striped waistcoat and gray trousers.

  By contrast, McKae was almost ostentatiously casual, in a wide-collared pink shirt and smoke-gray trousers. He had put on some weight since Bleys had first met him, nearly five years before. Not much, but enough to obscure his earlier almost-youthful slimness. His jawline had thickened and his face broadened, giving him something of a leonine appearance.

  “Well,” he said now, “I didn’t know. But the search was routine—you can guess that. I wasn’t told you were on Harmony, and only a few trusted people get in to me, un-searched. I’m still surprised you knew I was here.”

  “You’re too modest,” said Bleys.

  “Not at all. In your case, common knowledge was that you were still on New Earth. You forget you’re quite a public figure yourself, these days. I could answer that you’re also being over-modest,” said McKae.

  “Both worlds,” said Bleys, “know the next elections on Association and Harmony have been scheduled together, to see who gets the most votes for Chief Speaker on his own world. And the hopes of Harmony’s Brother Williams being reelected here—let alone getting more votes than you on Association—aren’t considerable. With any reasonable switch of Harmony votes away from the good Bishop, your chances of being declared Eldest over both worlds is pretty good. It doesn’t hurt that Harmony’s a little upset over the shortage of funds for the new Core Tap they’ve been building.”

  McKae chuckled. “Now, you know, I never count the duties the Lord sends me until they’re revealed. But even if I did have high hopes of becoming Eldest, why should that bring you to me from New Earth—unless you decided to cut your speaking tour there short?”

  “No,” said Bleys, “I’ll be going back, sometime after the election. It’s just that seeing you right now was more important.”

  McKae nodded. “Maybe it’s a good thing the doorway checked you for weapons and recording equipment,” he said. “This breakfast of ours sounds as if we’re getting into areas I’d not want anyone but myself to have on record.”

  Bleys smiled agreeably. He did not need to carry a recorder; since he had been five years old, his memory had been able to flawlessly reproduce any conversation he took part in. Nor did he need such a recording as any kind of proof. But he would detail the talk for Toni, along with his interpretations of McKae’s reactions—it would be interesting to get her reaction to McKae.

  “The thought occurred to me that maybe I could lend you a hand—just to make it more sure you’d become Eldest,” Bleys murmured. “As you say, counting your duties ahead of time is a foolish thing. But I know you’ve a few churches here on Harmony, and you’ll probably be gaining more even between now and the election. The only question is how many, and how many Harmony voters will they represent?”

  “Of course,” said McKae, his eyes steady on Bleys.

  “I was just thinking,” went on Bleys, “of making a few speeches of my own on this world, speeches emphasizing that I’m a philosopher only, of course, but still speaking of the advantages—not of you specifically—but of an Eldest over both worlds again for the first time in years—an Eldest with qualifications much like yours. Young, recently and exceptionally successful as the Founder of a new church…”

  “I see,” said McKae.

  “After all,” Bleys went on, “Harmony and Association have always done best led by a single strong hand. There’s the remarkable example of Eldest Bright, a hundred years ago. Our two worlds made their greatest progress for thirty-eight years, Absolute, with him as shepherd of both.”

  “He made some mistakes,” said McKae. “Still—never mind that. It’s good of you to thin
k you might help me this way. But what brings about this charity?”

  “I wasn’t exactly thinking of it as charity,” said Bleys. “I thought you might want to do me a kindness in return sometime.”

  “Well, now.” McKae sat back in his chair. The breakfast laid out between the two men at the table had scarcely been touched by either one of them. “Now, I feel much more comfortable. I always like to know what I might owe someone else. If I don’t, there’s always a little feeling of uneasiness. You understand?”

  “Of course,” Bleys said. “I’m familiar with that feeling, myself.”

  “Well, then, this has to go both ways. If you help me, I’d want to be able to show my gratitude—if it was possible. Is there anything specific you can think of now, that I might be able to do for you?”

  “Yes,” said Bleys. “If you’re chosen, of course, you’ll be in a position to name someone to the only other office that appears only when our two Friendly Worlds join in choosing an Eldest.”

  “You mean,” McKae said. He broke off and ran the tip of his tongue over his lips. “The First Elder. The one who would replace me if anything made me incapable of holding office.”

  “Yes,” said Bleys. “It would give you a form of double insurance; since I think I’ve proved that my interests don’t run toward holding any working public office. In case anything actually happened to incapacitate you, I’d throw the choice of a replacement into election in the Chambers of both worlds—which is the First Elder’s right, as you know. Meanwhile, however, the title of that office would give me added respect on other New Worlds I’ll be visiting.”

  “I see,” said McKae. He wet his lips again. “You know, this breakfast could stand a little wine with it.” He looked over his shoulder, but the checkered waistcoat of their server was already moving toward them from a discreet distance, now almost within reach. “Some of the yellow Tresbon, I think.”

  “Right away, my Bishop,” murmured the server and was gone.

  “You’ll join me, won’t you, Bleys Ahrens?” said McKae, a few minutes later, watching the lightly-yellow-tinted wine poured into the slim glass that had been placed before him.

  “I know you’re a fruit-juice addict; but even on a brother world like this the juices are bound to taste differently—and I think you’ll like this—one of Harmony’s best wines.”

  “On an occasion like this, yes,” said Bleys, watching a wineglass being filled for him as well.

  “You need to take it with a good, full swallow, to get the full fruitiness of it in the back of your throat,” said McKae, having just done so. “So many people make the mistake of just sipping.”

  “I see what you mean,” said Bleys. It was a cool, semi-sweet beverage, tasting very much the same as most wines of its type. Pleasant enough, but he had worked too hard over the years to put a razor edge on his mind, to carelessly let it be dulled even slightly now, without good reason. However, in this case, McKae was taking the lead; and even with the extra kilograms McKae had put on, Bleys’ own size made him outweigh the other man considerably.

  “Now,” said McKae, watching his own glass being refilled, “to get back to what we were talking about.”

  “Yes,” said Bleys, and paused, looking at the server.

  “Leave us to ourselves, Isaiah,” said McKae. They both watched the server withdraw into the elevator housing at the far end of the roof.

  “As it happens,” said Bleys into the momentary silence, “I’ve been thinking of resigning my present seat in the Association Chamber—my brother Dahno will take it over—and I’d be perfectly free to accept your appointment.”

  McKae poured himself another glass of wine from the bottle that stood on the table and this time he sipped, himself, rather than swallowing as he had on his first glassful.

  “Yes,” he said quietly, his eyes on his wineglass, “as you said, it’s a special office, of course, that comes into existence only when an Eldest is chosen, anyway. There’s no administrative power at all involved—you know that? Only a yearly stipend, but too small a one, I think, to make any real difference to someone like yourself, with interstellar credit coming in from your Other organization. No real duties, of course…”

  He looked up across the table at Bleys. “But you’re not expecting, I hope, that I’m going to experience any inability in office.”

  Bleys laughed. “I hope not, too. I’ll be talking on a number of the other New Worlds, starting with those that already have organizations of Others on them; and my schedule for the foreseeable future is very tight. Aside from how I’d feel if you had to give up the office, I can’t afford the time to come back here and supervise a two-chamber election of a new Eldest to fill out your term.”

  “Yes. I see, I see…” said McKae, nodding. He poured himself a third glass, “Oh, forgive me. I didn’t notice your glass was empty—last I looked, it was still almost full.”

  Bleys watched him refill it.

  “Well, now,” McKae went on, “the appointment’s a reasonable return for the good you might be able to do me if you speak here on Harmony in the next couple of weeks. But then—forgive me—you might not turn out to be all that helpful. To be truthful, I think I ought to win handily, even without your help.”

  He smiled at Bleys and drank again.

  “Oh, I think you will—barring the unexpected,” said Bleys. “However, you don’t want to stay Eldest just until the next election on both worlds. You’d want to beat Eldest Bright’s terms in office—a series of reelections. Moreover, right now both Harmony and Association are struggling with a lack of finances. What if you could come into office and make an agreement with New Earth to hire fifty thousand mercenary soldiers from our two planets? Harmony, for instance, could see coming the funds to drive that new Core Tap they need so badly for extra energy—”

  McKae had leaned sharply forward in his chair.

  “Of course!” he said. “And our own Association could have a half a dozen things that it needs right now; including replacing some of our outworn heavy machinery!”

  His face changed, although his body still stayed alert.

  “But why should New Earth do something like that?” His eyes watched Bleys.

  “Quite simply,” said Bleys. “You’ll want to check up on this yourself, of course, but just before I left—and in fact, the reason I left and came directly here to talk to you—was that I’d just gotten word that the Guild and the CEO Clubs on New Earth had made an alliance for the hiring of that many mercenary troops; which they’d only be able to get from our Friendly worlds, since the Dorsai are for hire nowadays only as field or staff officers—and their price is too high, anyway.”

  “And what would make the Guilds and CEOs do that?” McKae asked.

  “I believe my going back there and going on with my talks there might have something to do with it,” said Bleys. “I don’t know how close a watch your people have kept on the New Earth situation; but you must know that the overwhelming majority of those on the planet—people who call themselves simply ‘jobholders’—are connected under the control of a very powerful organization called the Shoe. The Shoe has assured me—their leader has assured me—that if I keep my speeches going, they can organize even more strongly behind what I say; and the result might be something very like a revolution in the situation existing now on that planet.”

  “Revolution…” McKae murmured.

  “Yes,” said Bleys, “the people they represent, both in the Shoe and the general jobholders, are fed up to the teeth with what the CEOs and the Guilds have done to them over the last century. Consequently, the kind of force that the CEOs and Guilds will need to stay in power will be at least the fifty thousand mercenary soldiers I mentioned, and which they can get only from us. If you win the election—from you.”

  McKae watched him for a moment longer, then nodded slowly. The expression on his face did not change.

  “But,” said Bleys, “it all depends on circumstances, the greatest of which
is whether I go back there in person. I’ve said repeatedly there I’m against any kind of violence. But the jobholders listen to other words I say, too. In brief, if I continue to talk there, the revolution, in one form or another, is virtually certain to threaten—unless the CEOs and Guilds have power enough to put it down in its early stages. This has become critical, as you probably know, because the CEOs just recently signed a full-planet commercial agreement with Cassida.”

  McKae stayed still, watching him quietly.

  “It’s one of those fortunate encounters that happen in life,” said Bleys quietly, when McKae still said nothing. “Two instances that might otherwise be unrelated become important only when hooked together. It’s not that such things can’t happen or don’t happen—but just that it requires seeing the possibility they could happen and taking advantage of it. It just happens that my speaking both here and there could be a key to it. I was hoping that you might want to take advantage of this situation.”

  “You’d be heading right back for New Earth, then?” McKae asked.

  “Not right back, but I’d been thinking of returning after I’ve spent a couple of weeks giving talks around Harmony on my own subject,” said Bleys. “I’ve got some business right after that on Cassida and Newton for a little while. This produces a sort of convenient interlude, as it turns out, that should give time for your election and appointment of me as First Elder to take place. Meanwhile, of course, Dahno Ahrens can be running in my home district for my seat in the Association Chamber. There’s no doubt he’ll win if he does. He’s much better liked there than I am. In fact, if it hadn’t been for his help, I wouldn’t have gotten that seat in the first place.”

  Bleys stopped speaking. The silence between them lengthened.