"Give it time, kid! Give it time!"
Jusa must have seen something in his expression, something behind the
embarrassment and anger. Very softly she said, "I will be most happy to
marry you."
* * * * *
It was a double-ring ceremony and authentically Terran. Beliakoff
produced a Bible from the freighter and the ancient words of the Earth
ceremony were read. When it was over, Kelly, grinning, perspiring,
nervously rubbing his hands together, turned to his bride.
"Now stop the war, honey."
"Yes, dear," Jusa said dutifully. She heaved a great sigh.
"What's wrong?" Kelly asked.
"I just tremble to think of our cities being bombed out of existence
and us not able to do anything about it because we've stopped fighting."
"What are you talking about? If we stop fighting--"
"_They_ won't!" she said. "Why should they? It's Earthlike to continue
conquering, and if we quit fighting, there'll be nothing to stop them
from conquering us completely."
"Nob!" Kelly shouted. "Igor! What can we do about this?"
Nob said, "There would appear to be only one certain solution. I can
arrange a meeting for you--" he turned to Beliakoff--"with Lanvi, the
President of the Allies."
"What would I say to him?" asked Beliakoff.
"To her," Nob corrected. "You can say, I suppose, the same sort of
thing your friend said."
Beliakoff, ashy pale, started to back away. Kelly caught him in one
meaty fist. "Okay, Mr. Fixer. Your duty is plain. Marry us out of
trouble."
"But I've got a girl friend in Minsk--"
"She forgot you years ago. Stop squirming, buddy."
"What does she look like?" Beliakoff queried in apprehension.
"_Very_ pretty," Nob said.
* * * * *
During the double-ring ceremony, Beliakoff peered at his bride with
cautious approval. Lanvi was indeed a pretty girl and she seemed to
possess the Malan virtues of obedience, patience and fire.
As soon as the final words were spoken, the war was declared officially
over. Peace, an authentic Earth custom, was proclaimed.
"Now the real work begins," Beliakoff said. "First, we'll need a list
of the casualties."
"The what?" Nob asked.
"Casualties."
"I'm not sure I understand," said the Prime Minister.
"Casualties! The number of people killed in the warfare."
"Now wait a moment," Nob said, his voice trembling. "Do I understand
you correctly? Are you trying to tell me that civilized people kill
people in their wars? _Do you mean that they leave people in the cities
they bomb?_"
Kelly looked at Beliakoff. Beliakoff looked at Kelly.
"Lord, Lord," murmured Kelly.
Beliakoff merely gulped.
"Is it possible?" asked Nob. "Do civilized people really--"
"Of course not," said Beliakoff.
"Never," Kelly said.
Nob pursed his lips. "I've been wanting to ask a real authority, a
genuine Earthman, some questions on the subject. Our texts were by no
means complete and some parts we couldn't understand at all. Like the
matter of determining victories. That's something we couldn't figure
out. We decided you must use a complicated system of umpires. It was
too much for us, so we built a bunker in no man's land and put a man
from each side in it. They tossed coins to determine whose turn it was.
The winning side would bomb an enemy city. After the occupants had
been evacuated, of course."
"Of course," said Beliakoff.
"It worked out rather well with the coins," Nob said. "Law of averages,
in fact."
"Substantially our system," said Kelly.
"Just the way we do it," Beliakoff added.
"A few more questions, if you please," Nob said. "Jusa, would you bring
in the big _War Encyclopedia_?"
* * * * *
Jusa and Lanvi had been gossiping on the other side of the room. They
hurried out and returned with the great book.
"Now here," Nob said, opening the volume, "it seems to imply--"
"Wait," Beliakoff broke in. He took the book from Nob's hands and
flipped through it rapidly, then turned to Kelly. In a whisper, he said
in Propendium, "It looks as though Kyne blotted out all references to
killing."
"Sure!" exclaimed Kelly, brightening. "I told you he was a
hemophiliac--a bleeder. Naturally, he'd cut out every single mention of
bloodshed!"
"This point--" Nob began.
"Later," Beliakoff said. "Right now, we'd like to get a few articles
from our spaceship." He winked at Kelly, who winked back. "It won't
take a moment and then we'll be only too happy to--"
"Oh, dear," said Nob. "You mean you _wanted_ the spaceship?"
"What?"
"Well, I assumed that you'd have no further use for it. Metal is hard
to get nowadays and it seemed only proper to erect heroic statues to
both of you, the men who brought the institution of peace to Mala. Did
I do something wrong?"
"Not at all, not at all," Kelly said. "Oh, not at all. Perfectly
delighted. Not at--"
"Johnny!" said Beliakoff.
"Sorry," Kelly apologized, a broken man.
The brides stepped forward to claim their husbands.
Peace and prosperity came to Mala, under the deft guidance of their
Terran leaders. In time, spaceships arrived and departed, but neither
man showed any particular desire to board one, for their wives--docile,
patient, yet fiery--proved more appealing than the lonely far reaches
of space.
Beliakoff sometimes pondered the opportune melting down of their
freighter. He was never able to discover who had signed the order. But
all Mala knew the saying, "An Earthman is easy to catch, but hard to
hold." He wondered whether that had been the true reason behind the
order to scrap the ship.
By this time, of course, he didn't really care; if his wife or Kelly's
had been responsible, it was all the more reason to feel appreciated.
* * * * *
Nob knew the answer, but he had other things on his mind. He lay awake,
restless, until his wife asked worriedly what was wrong.
"I've been wondering," he said. "Those war books that the Earthmen had
us turn in--I never did understand why all those deletions were made.
You know, the ones that made us figure out a way of deciding which side
won."
"But the Earthmen said they used the very same system," she reminded
him. "And they wouldn't lie, would they?"
"They would, if it was for our good. That's what is known as diplomacy,
dear. Statesmanship. Or politics. Interchangeable terms."