The Imperial Marine officer was polite, but very insistent. "Colonel MacKinnie, I have my orders. You are to accompany me to Empire House immediately." He looked around Dougal's office, then at Dougal. "I have a squad of Marines outside, and I am in communication with Marine Barracks."
"Calmly, calmly," Dougal said. "We have offered no resistance. I merely asked what Colonel MacKinnie is charged with. I assume he is under arrest?"
"I'd rather not put it that way," the officer said. "But I could."
"But what am I charged with?" MacKinnie demanded.
The officer shrugged.
"What should I do?" MacKinnie asked.
Dougal looked grave. "I would prefer that you go with him. Until this matter is settled, we should be prepared to go to any lengths to show how well we cooperate with the Imperial authorities."
MacKinnie shrugged. "All right."
"We will protest to the High Commissioner at once," Dougal said.
"While you're doing that, get them to set Freelady Graham free," MacKinnie said. "We've got a wedding scheduled."
"We will do our best," Dougal said. "I'll talk to the King immediately."
Nathan sat in an ornate chair in the study at Government House. A cheerful fire burned on the hearth, but he hardly noticed it.
Where is Mary? Have they brought her here, or is she still up in that ship? Damn them, damn them to hell. They'll have to let her go. They can't hold her. She's the most famous person on Samual, better known than King David.
That thought was disturbing. Dougal would see that, too. What would Dougal do about it? He can't have one of David's subjects more popular than the king, not if he plans to control the development of this planet.
Wonder if he'll get that control? He's certain the Empire is going to approve his application for Class Two status. He seems to know a lot about Ackoff. Or says he does, and I've no evidence one way or another.
Suppose he's right, they approve David's application and bring Samual into their Empire. What happens then? What have they done with Mary?
The door opened and a large man, formally dressed, came in. "Colonel MacKinnie? I am Dudley Boyd, First Secretary. His Excellency will see you now." MacKinnie stood, remembering that it was in this room that he'd first met the Imperials. That seemed like a long time ago.
And it is interesting, MacKinnie thought as he followed the diplomat down the hall. The First Secretary for escort. I've come up in the world . . . .
Mary was in the High Commissioner's office. He went to her without waiting to be introduced to the Commissioner, but then he stood self-consciously. He wanted to hold her, but old habits die hard. "Are you all right? You look pale."
"I'm fine—"
"The Navy's surgeon says she will recover," Boyd said. "There was internal bleeding, and perhaps an intestinal adhesion may need minor surgery."
MacKinnie looked shocked. Boyd's voice was gentle as he said, "What did you expect? The vibration in that—" He hesitated a moment over the word. "The vibration in the ship must have been fierce."
"Was it bad?" Nathan asked.
She grinned lopsidedly. "No worse than the carts on Makassar." Her reserve broke, and she stepped toward him. He opened his arms and held her.
Boyd cleared his throat. "Your Excellency, may I present Colonel Nathan MacKinnie. Colonel, High Commissioner Sir Alexei Ackoff."
"Your servant," MacKinnie said automatically.
"Hardly," Ackoff said. "Have you any idea of how many man-hours of planning you two have wrecked? No, I wouldn't suppose you would. Sit down, Freelady, Colonel. We have much to discuss." He led the way to the comfortable couches arranged at the far end of his office. "Would anyone care for a drink? This will be quite informal."
"Informal but official," Boyd warned. "Colonel, you and Freelady Graham have been charged with interfering with the orderly development of a primitive world, to wit, Makassar."
"But we didn't interfere," Mary protested.
Ackoff waved impatiently. "Don't be nonsensical. There's always interference when an advanced people move among primitives."
"I see," MacKinnie said. "You were embarrassed by our ship, and you've chosen us to pay for it."
"Pronouns," Dudley Boyd said.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Wrong pronouns," Boyd said. "You said 'you,' meaning us, and that's not true. You've been arrested by Navy orders, not ours."
"Makassar is under Navy jurisdiction," Ackoff explained. "There is no civil government there. Captain Greenaugh is within his rights, and he could try you by court martial. You would then have the right to appeal to civil authority, which is to say, to me. We're trying to save time by dealing directly with you."
"But what did we do?" Mary asked.
"Captain Greenaugh is still building his case," Ackoff said. "But as it happens, I can put one precise specification to his charge. Horse collars."
"Horse collars?" MacKinnie frowned. "I hadn't thought the Empire concerned itself with trivia."
Ackoff laughed. "Trivia? Colonel, the horse collar effectively ended slavery on Earth in pre-atomic times. I see you don't understand.
"Consider that if you harness a horse by fastening a strap around its neck, the poor beast can't pull very hard because when it pulls it strangles itself. Improperly hitched horses can do about five times as much work as a man. But a horse eats five times as much as a man. Given the choice between a horse and a slave there isn't much in it.
"But. Add the rigid horse collar so the load goes on to the shoulders, and the horse can do ten times as much work as a man—and it still eats only five times as much. Horses are then clearly preferable to humans for heavy work. Prior to the invention of horse collars there were as many slaves as free people on Earth. Afterwards, slavery became fairly rare and only imposed on people thought inferior. And I see I am indulging my tendency to lecture.
"My point is simple. I know from the reports—from your own admissions—that you introduced rigid horse collars. Probably a lot of other seemingly minor innovations will have a profound impact. Privately, I expect you did them far more good than harm, but if we want to charge you, we have all the evidence we need."
"And you can't say you weren't warned," Boyd said. "Captain Greenaugh is adamant on that point. He warned you himself."
"But—" Graham protested.
Nathan shook his head. "They've obviously got more to say. Let's hear them out."
"A good attitude," Ackoff said. "Colonel, you know very little of Imperial politics. I can be certain of this, because it's true of everyone on this planet. That's going to change, of course. Once Prince Samual becomes an actual member world, there'll be travel and trade. And intrigue. I doubt that King David and Lord Dougal have any suspicion of what's in store for them, of how hard it will be for them to maintain control here when new technology begins to flow unrestricted.
"Have you any place in that struggle?"
"Not much," MacKinnie said. "I'd thought of that already. Even that Dougal might see us—" He took Mary's hand. "Might see us as a threat."
"Discerning," Ackoff said. "And actually the situation is more complicated than I described it." He pointed upward, out the arched window above his desk. "Out there in Trans-Coalsack Sector they've discovered aliens. The fleet's being sent there. Sparta's attention will inevitably follow. There won't be a lot to spare for Samual. My staff will remain, and we will bring in our intelligence people, but this will be, after all, a rather minor provincial world for some time to come. You two have won King David the right to a measure of independence, and he'll have to endure the consequences."
"I don't see where we come in," MacKinnie said.
"Think upon it," Boyd said. "The contest for power on this planet is hardly over. You two will shortly be the best-known people on Prince Samual's World. You cannot avoid being drawn into politics."
"That's not my game," Nathan said.
"It is tempting," Mary said. "We could—"
"To be blunt," Boyd said, "you can work with Dougal or be killed; and it will be difficult to fit into Dougal's plans. Also, understand that there's no way we could protect you even if we wanted to. Pardon the interruption, but were I you I would think of few less tempting alternatives."
"Nor could we allow you to raise an army of your former soldiers for protection," Ackoff said. "We will not permit a civil war on this planet."
"You're working up to something," MacKinnie said. "Make your offer."
Ackoff nodded. "You are admirably direct. But then you're a soldier, not a diplomat. There is one other point of background you ought to be quite certain of. Captain Greenaugh does not like you."
Mary Graham laughed. "We hadn't expected him to."
"The matter is serious," Dr. Boyd said. "The Navy has great influence, and Captain Greenaugh is adamant. Someone must be punished—visibly punished—to assuage his embarrassment."
"And we're elected," Mary said.
"It seems that way," Boyd said.
"The Navy arrest warrant is quite genuine," Ackoff said carefully. "It cannot be ignored. But we would very much prefer to avoid a trial."
"Why?" MacKinnie asked.
"No one would win," Ackoff said. "Your King David would defend you, but I doubt his heart would be in it. He'd want us to win, and thereby prove that we are tyrants. We, on the other hand, would prefer to lose the case and thus demonstrate the fairness of Imperial justice. If Greenaugh insists on a court martial, then you will appeal. If we grant that appeal, Greenaugh will insist the case be opened at a higher level. A waste of time all around, with no profit for anyone—and unpleasant for you in the bargain. Fortunately, there is an alternative. You can plead guilty and ask for Imperial clemency."
"Why should we do that?" Mary asked.
"Because we would then determine the sentence, which would be permanent exile."
"Exile?" Nathan said.
"Yes. To Makassar."
"Makassar?" MacKinnie asked. "I don't see—"
"Simple, actually," Boyd said. "If you accept voluntary exile on Makassar, Greenaugh will be satisfied. You made fools of the Navy, and you paid for it. But of course there are side benefits. You will also be removed as a factor in this world's politics." The First Secretary examined his fingertips. "That makes our task just a bit easier."
"And Makassar could benefit as well," Ackoff added. "If we can't give much attention to Prince Samual's World, what have we to spare for that place? A world of no importance. But there are nearly a million people there, people as human as you and I."
"You really want us to go back?" Graham asked incredulously.
"Precisely," Boyd said.
"You impressed the churchmen," Ackoff said. "And now that you are a citizen of a classified world, it would be legal for you to hold an official appointment. As, say, civil advisor to the Archbishop. His memorandum makes it clear that he would welcome your assistance."
"You could do a lot of good," Boyd said. "No one will govern Makassar for a long time. Certainly not with the resources we can spare. But Makassar will inevitably fall into Prince Samual's sphere of influence, and someone must see that the ITA doesn't absolutely plunder that unfortunate world until it is capable of protecting itself. You might make a difference in their development."
Mary and Nathan looked at each other in amazement. Were these two actually pleading with them?
"It's quite a logical position for you," Ackoff said. "You know as much about Makassar as anyone in the Empire. You even had access to the old library." Ackoff smiled thinly. "Not that I expect you to admit it, but your ship rather proves that, doesn't it? And while you don't know a lot about modern technology, Makassar's not likely to get much modern technology. What's needed is someone who knows how to make do."
"How can you trust me?"
"We don't have to," Boyd said. "No matter what you do, you'll be no threat to the Empire." He shrugged. "Assume the worst, that you make yourself king of all the barbarians. The ship that takes you there will remove most of the tapes from that Old Empire library. What can you do to us? And Makassar is unlikely to be worse off with you than without you."
"And if I refuse?" Nathan asked. Ackoff shrugged. "We'd have to consider our other alternatives."
"The threat isn't needed," Mary said. "We want to go back. Nathan never wanted to leave."
MacKinnie nodded agreement. "I left some obligations back there. But—Mary, are you certain you want this?"
"What makes you think you're the only one who wants to be needed?" she demanded. "For a moment I was mad enough to suppose that because I was a passenger in Dougal's ship I could be a match for Dougal, but that won't work. And—I was needed on Makassar too, Nathan MacKinnie. Not just by you."
"We'll give you time to think about it," Ackoff said.
"We won't need it," Mary said. She turned to MacKinnie. "Will we, Your Excellency?" She made no attempt to hide her laughter.
Ackoff nodded. "If it were done, 't were best done quickly. We'll arrange transportation in a ship with proper medical facilities. You should be as good as new when you arrive on Makassar." He cleared his throat. "Uh, I can see there's a chaplain aboard also. I understand congratulations are in order . . . . That's settled, then."
Ackoff smiled warmly, then turned to his computer screen. That was one problem solved. There would be others. There always were.