Space Viking by H. Beam Piper (read an ebook week .TXT) 📕

Sword-Worlders were accustomed to, with broad roadways between. In several places there were queer arrangements of crossed roadways, apparently leading nowhere. Harkaman laughed when he saw them.

“Airstrips. I’ve seen them on other planets where they’ve lost contragravity. For winged aircraft powered by chemical fuel. I hope we have time for me to look around, here. I’ll bet they even have railroads here.”

The “great damage” caused by the bomb was about equal to the effect of a medium hurricane; he had seen worse from high winds at Traskon. Mostly it had been moral, which had been the kind intended.

They met President Pedrosan and the council of Syndics in a spacious and well-furnished chamber near the top of one of the medium-high buildings. Valkanhayn was surprised; in a loud aside he considered that these people must be almost civilized. They were introduced. Amaterasuan surnames preceded personal names, which hinted at a culture and a political organization making much use of registration by alphabetical list. They all wore garments which had the indefinable but unmistakable appearance of uniforms. When they had all seated themselves at a large oval table, Harkaman drew his pistol and used the butt for a gavel.

“Lord Trask, will you deal with these people directly?” he asked, stiffly formal.

“Certainly, Admiral.” He spoke to the President, ignoring the others. “We want it understood that we control this city, and we expect complete submission. As long as you remain submissive to us, we will do no damage beyond removal of the things we wish to take from it, and there will be no violence to any of your people, or any indiscriminate vandalism. This visit we are paying you will cost you heavily, make no mistake about that, but whatever the cost, it will be a cheap price for avoiding what we might otherwise do.”

The President and the Syndics exchanged relieved glances. Let the taxpayers worry about the cost; they’d come out of it with whole skins.

“You understand, we want maximum value and minimum bulk,” he continued. “Jewels, objects of art, furs, the better grades of luxury goods of all kinds. Rare-element metals. And monetary metals, gold and platinum. You have a metallic-based currency, I suppose?”

“Oh, no!” President Pedrosan was slightly scandalized. “Our currency is based on services to society. Our monetary unit is simply called a credit.”

Harkaman snorted impolitely. Evidently he’d seen economic systems like that before. Trask wanted to know if they used gold or platinum at all.

“Gold, to some extent, for jewelry.” Evidently they weren’t complete economic puritans. “And platinum in industry, of course.”

“If they want gold, they should have raided Stolgoland,” one of the Syndics said. “They have a gold-standard currency.” From the way he said it, he might have been accusing them of eating with their fingers, and possibly of eating their own young.

“I know, the maps we’re using for this planet are a few centuries old; Stolgoland doesn’t seem to appear on them.”

“I wish it didn’t appear on ours, either.” That was General Dagró Ector, Syndic for State Protection.

“It would have been a good thing for this whole planet if you’d decided to raid them instead of us,” somebody else said.

“It isn’t too late for these gentlemen to make that decision,” Pedrosan said. “I gather that gold is a monetary metal among your people?” When Trask nodded, he continued: “It is also the basis of the Stolgonian currency. The actual currency is paper, theoretically redeemable in gold. In actuality, the circulation of gold has been prohibited, and the entire gold wealth of the nation is concentrated in vaults at three depositories. We know exactly where they are.”

“You begin to interest me, President Pedrosan.”

“I do? Well, you have two large spaceships and six smaller craft. You have nuclear weapons, something nobody on this planet has. You have contragravity, something that is hardly more than a legend here. On the other hand, we have a million and a half ground-troops, jet aircraft, armored ground-vehicles, and chemical weapons. If you will undertake to attack Stolgoland, we will place this entire force at your disposal; General Dagró will command them as you direct. All that we ask is that, when you have loaded the gold hoards of Stolgoland aboard your ships, you will leave our troops in possession of the country.”

That was all there was to that meeting. There was a second one; only Trask, Harkaman and Sir Paytrik Morland represented the Space Vikings, and the Eglonsby government was represented by President Pedrosan and General Dagró. They met more intimately, in a smaller and more luxurious room in the same building.

“If you’re going to declare war on Stolgoland, you’d better get along with it,” Morland advised.

“What?” Pedrosan seemed to have only the vaguest idea of what he was talking about. “You mean, warn them? Certainly not. We will attack them by surprise. It will be nothing but plain self-defense,” he added righteously. “The oligarchic capitalists of Stolgoland have been plotting to attack us for years.”

“Yes. If you had carried out your original intention of looting Eglonsby, they would have invaded us the moment your ships lifted out. It’s exactly what I’d do in their place.”

“But you maintain nominally friendly relations with them?”

“Of course. We are civilized. The peace-loving government and people of Eglonsby.⁠ ⁠…”

“Yes, Mr. President; I understand. And they have an embassy here?”

“They call it that!” cried Dagró. “It is a nest of vipers, a plague-spot of espionage and subversion⁠ ⁠… !”

“We’ll grab that ourselves, right away,” Harkaman said. “You won’t be able to round up all their agents outside it, and if we tried to, it would cause suspicion. We’ll have to put up a front to deceive them.”

“Yes. You will go on the air at once, calling on the people to collaborate with us, and you will specifically order your troops mobilized to assist us in collecting the tribute we are levying on Eglonsby,” Trask said. “In that way, if any Stolgonian spies see your troops concentrated around our landing craft, they’ll think it’s to help us load our loot.”

“And we’ll