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Chapter 8

They watched Aries come in—de Messigny, the Princess and, a little to one side, Grimes and Kravisky. Grimes had thought it strange that the spaceport control tower should be left unmanned at this juncture, but the two El Doradans, coldly and amusedly, had informed him that the electronic intelligences housed therein were quite capable of handling any normal landing without any human interference. Grimes did not like the way that the Comte slightly stressed the word "normal."

They stood there, the four of them, on the edge of the apron, well clear of the triangle of red lights. Above them, on gleaming wings, wheeled and hovered a quartet of flying things that looked like birds, that must be four of the watchbirds about which Grimes had already heard, which, in fact, he had already encountered. (And, he thought glumly, there was still the enquiry into the loss of the re-entry vehicle to face.)

The two El Doradans ignored their mechanical guardians. The Lieutenant could not, wondering what would happen should he make some inadvertent move that would be construed by the electronic brains as an act of hostility. He started to edge a little further away from Marlene von Stolzberg and de Messigny, then, with an audible grunt, stood his ground.

They saw the ship before they heard her—at first a glittering speck in the cloudless, morning sky and then, after only a few seconds, a gleaming spindle. She was well in sight when there drifted down to them the odd, irregular throbbing of an inertial drive unit in operation, no more than an uneasy mutter to begin with but swelling to an ominous, intermittent thunder, the voice of the power that had hurled men out among the stars.

But this was all wrong. On any civilized world, or on any civilized world other than this, there would have been an honor guard, ranks of soldiers, in ceremonial uniform, drawn to rigid attention. There would have been antique cannon with black powder charges to fire a salute to the Captain of a major Terran war vessel. There would have been flags and ceremonial. But here, here there was only one man— and his uniform, after all, was a mercantile one—and one woman. A self-styled Princess, perhaps, but even so . . . And, thought Grimes, there's also Kravisky and myself, but dressed like beach boys.

Lower dropped the ship, and lower, the noise of her Drive deafening now, every protrusion, every mast, turret and sponson that broke the smooth lines of her hull visible to the naked eye. From a staff just abaft her sharp stem the ensign of the Survey Service—a golden S on a black field, with the green, blue and gold globe of Earth in the upper canton—was broken out, streamed vertically upwards. Grimes did not have to turn to see that there was no bunting displayed from the masts of the spaceport administration buildings. Perhaps, he thought, there were in the Universe aristocrats sufficiently courteous to put out more flags to celebrate the arrival of snotty-nosed ragamuffins from the wrong side of the tracks, but the only aristocratic quality to be found in abundance on El Dorado was arrogance.

She was down at last, a shining, metallic tower poised between the buttresses of her tripedal landing gear. She was down and until the moment that Captain Daintree cut the Drive, an egg trapped between one of the huge pads and the concrete of the apron would have remained unbroken. And then the sudden silence as the machinery slowed to a halt was broken by the almost inaudible hissings and creakings as the ship's enormous mass adjusted itself to the gravitational field of the planet.

There were other soft noises behind the original reception party. Grimes turned. Three air cars of graceful, almost fragile design were coming in to a smooth landing, each attended by its pair of hovering watch-birds. From the first stepped a fat, bald, yellow-skinned man, his gross body draped in a dark blue robe. From the second emerged a tall, thin individual, black coated, gray trousered, wearing on his head a black hat of antique design. The occupant of the third car was a superbly made Negro, clad in a leopard skin flung carelessly about his body.

Grimes turned again, stiffening to attention, as he heard the bugles. Aries had her ramp out now, extending to the ground from the after airlock door. Stiffly, the two Marine buglers marched down it and as they set foot on the apron, raised their gleaming instruments to their lips and sounded another call. Twenty Marines came next, under their Major, and formed two ranks on either side of the foot of the ramp. Then Captain Daintree appeared in the circular doorway, all black and gold and starched white linen, his cocked hat on his head, his ceremonial sword at his side, his decorations gleaming on his breast. He was followed by Surgeon Commander Passifern, looking a little (but only a little) ill at ease in his full dress finery. Marlene von Stolzberg whispered something to her companions and giggled.

Slowly, more like a humanoid robot than a man, Captain Daintree marched towards the waiting group, Passifern keeping step behind him. He glared at Grimes and Kravisky, standing there in their gaudy civilian clothes. His glance flickered over the others. Grimes could almost hear him thinking; who was in authority? Somehow he contrived a salute that included all of them. De Messigny answered it with a casual flip of his hand toward the gold-crusted peak of his cap, then stepped forward. He said, "We have already met at long range, Captain Daintree."

"Yes, M'sieur le Comte."

"Allow me to introduce the Princess Marlene von Stolzberg . . ." Daintree bowed slightly. "And Lord Tarlton of Dunwich, our Physician in Residence . . ." The tall, thin man in the black coat extended a pale hand; Daintree gripped it briefly. "And the Baron Takada . . ." The fat Oriental hissed and bobbed. "And Hereditary Chief Lobenga . . ." The big Negro's handshake made Daintree wince visibly. But his voice was cold and formal as he said, "To complete the introductions, this is Surgeon Commander Passifern, my Senior Medical Officer."

There was a long silence, broken by Daintree. He stated, "You asked for our assistance. Might I suggest that this is hardly the place to discuss the details. Perhaps Her Highness and you . . . er . . . gentlemen would care to step aboard my ship. I take it that you are representative of your government."

"We have no government, Captain Daintree, such as you understand the word," said de Messigny. "But it was decided that this little group here was best qualified to meet you. Will it be possible for you and Commander Passifern to come with us to the city? We shall provide transport."

"Very well," said Daintree. He looked at Grimes as he added, "I assume that your own atmosphere fliers are not harassed by careless sportsmen and sportswomen."

Grimes flushed as he heard Marlene von Stolzberg laugh softly.

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Framed