Ray had no way, just then, of knowing that Urushkidan had prudently
taken the spaceboat outside again and was using its long-range beams to
disintegrate the fleet as it came down. He hummed an old Martian work
song to himself as he did. There are times when even a philosopher must
take measures.
* * * * *
Official banquets are notoriously dull affairs, and the present
celebration was no different. That the Luna-based invaders had
capitulated on hearing of the disaster at home, that a democratic
government with U.N. membership had been set up for a permanently
disarmed Jupiter, and that the stars were open to mankind, seemed to
call forth only bigger and better platitudes.
Ray Ballantyne, drowsy with food and cocktails, nearly snowblind with
white tablecloth, would have fallen asleep except for the fact that his
shoes pinched him. So he listened with some surprise to the president
of his alma mater telling what an outstanding student he had been. As a
matter of fact, he recalled, he'd damn near been expelled.
Urushkidan, crammed into a Martian-designed tuxedo, smoked a thoughtful
pipe at his right and made calculations on the tablecloth. Dyann
Korlas, her shining hair braided around a stolen Jovian tiara, looked
stunning in a low-cut evening gown on his left. The dagger at her waist
was to set a new fashion on Earth, but there had been some confusion
when she insisted on having Ormun the Terrible placed in front of her
and grace said to the idol. Oh, well.
"--and this dauntless genius of science, whom his university is pleased
to honor with a doctorate of law--"
She leaned over and whispered in his ear--it could only be heard for
three yards around--"Ray, vat vill you do now?"
"I dunno," he murmured back. "I want to get a patent on that damn
interstellar drive before Urushkidan does, but after that--well--"
"It vas a lot of fun vile it lasted, vasn't it?" Dyann's smile was
wistful. "But I have been thinking, Ray. I am goin' back to Varann and
carve me out a throne. You--vell, Ray, you are too fine and beautiful
for such rough vork. You belon here, in the glamor and bright lights,
not out vith a lot of coarse unruly vomen who might hurt you."
"You know," he said, "I think you've got something there."
"I vill alvays remember you," she said sentimentally. "Maybe some day
ven ve are old, ve can meet again and bore the youth vith talk of our
great days." She looked around. "If only ve could sneak out of here now
and have a farevell party of our own--I know a bar--"
"Hmmm." Ray stroked his chin. "This calls for tactics. If we could sort
of slump down in our chairs, as if we were tired--and Lord, I am!--and
gradually sink out of sight, we could crawl under the table and through
that door--"
As he crept from the hall, Ray heard Urushkidan, called on for a
speech, begin the detailed exposition of his latest theory.