"We defeated you then," Molotov said coldly. "We can do it again, you know. And, as I said, Germany is in no position to aid you."

"I understand that," the Finn said. "I understand it most thoroughly. That is why my government has entered into consultations with the Race. We were not eager to do this, you must understand, but the Soviet Union's att.i.tude left us no choice."

For Molotov, the words were like a blow in the belly. He hadn't made a worse miscalculation since the pact with the n.a.z.is. "You would betray mankind?" he barked, his voice harsh.

"Nyet," Kekkonen repeated. "Our government would-and will-protect our country from aggression. Dealing with the Lizards is the only choice available to us at the moment. Because it is our only choice, we have taken it."

It was not the choice Molotov had expected the Finns to take. They'd jealously protected their independence against the USSR. They'd also protected it, as much as they could, against the Germans. They'd been the Reich's Reich's allies, but not, unlike Hungary and Romania, its subject allies. Molotov tried the best arrow left in his quiver: "How will your people take the news that you have surrendered to the Race?" allies, but not, unlike Hungary and Romania, its subject allies. Molotov tried the best arrow left in his quiver: "How will your people take the news that you have surrendered to the Race?"

Kekkonen's smile was almost as cold as any Molotov might have produced. "You misunderstand, Comrade General Secretary. In no way have we surrendered to the Race."

"What?" Molotov was so furious, and so alarmed, he had trouble sounding dry. "Did you not just tell me that you are allowing the Race to occupy Finland?"

"Yes, the Race will have a military presence in my country," Urho Kekkonen replied. "But the Lizards will not occupy us, any more than the Germans occupied us. We remain independent. The males of the Race in Finland will remain in their bases unless we are attacked, in which case they will cooperate with us in our defense. An attack on Finland will be construed as an attack on the Race."

"I... see," Molotov said. "This... agreement does not infringe on your sovereignty?"

Kekkonen shook his big head. "We do not care to have anyone anyone infringe on our sovereignty. The Soviet Union has had some small trouble grasping this over the years. It includes you, it includes the infringe on our sovereignty. The Soviet Union has had some small trouble grasping this over the years. It includes you, it includes the Reich, Reich, and it also includes the Race." and it also includes the Race."

"I... see," Molotov said again. "I had not believed the Lizards would enter into such an agreement." If I had, I never would have issued that ultimatum. If I had, I never would have issued that ultimatum.

"Perhaps no one had proposed such an arrangement to them before," the Finnish amba.s.sador answered. "Perhaps no one was in a position to propose such an agreement to them before. But we did, and they wasted no time in accepting."

"Of course they accepted," Molotov snapped. "You've let them put their foot in the door."

"We judged it better to let them put their foot in the door than for you to force your foot in," Kekkonen said.

Molotov didn't answer right away. He was thinking furiously. The Lizards never would have agreed to such a bargain before the latest round of fighting with the Germans. (That the Finns wouldn't have needed to ask for such an arrangement then was for the moment beside the point.) But they'd left the Reich Reich independent but weak. They'd re-created an independent but weak France. And now they were fostering an independent Finland that could never be anything but weak. independent but weak. They'd re-created an independent but weak France. And now they were fostering an independent Finland that could never be anything but weak.

They have hit upon something new, he thought. he thought. Now they are seeing what they can do with it. Now they are seeing what they can do with it. The Lizards still weren't skilled diplomats, not by Earthly standards. Odds were, they never would be. But they played the game better than they had on first coming to Earth: then, they'd hardly realized there was a game to be played. They could learn. He wished they hadn't started learning here. The Lizards still weren't skilled diplomats, not by Earthly standards. Odds were, they never would be. But they played the game better than they had on first coming to Earth: then, they'd hardly realized there was a game to be played. They could learn. He wished they hadn't started learning here.

Kekkonen said, "I presume we may now consider your ultimatum withdrawn?"

I ought to tell him no, Molotov thought. Molotov thought. I ought to tell him we would be happy to go to war with the Finns and the Lizards both. That would jolt him out of his smug bourgeois complacency. I ought to tell him we would be happy to go to war with the Finns and the Lizards both. That would jolt him out of his smug bourgeois complacency.

But it would also result in disaster for the Soviet Union. Molotov knew that only too well. Had he not known it, the recent horrid example of the Greater German Reich Reich would have rubbed his nose in it. Fighting the Lizards was a tactic of last resort. And so, staring hatefully at Kekkonen through his spectacles, he bit off one word: would have rubbed his nose in it. Fighting the Lizards was a tactic of last resort. And so, staring hatefully at Kekkonen through his spectacles, he bit off one word: "Da. "Da."

He took a certain amount of satisfaction in noting how relieved the Finn looked. Kekkonen hadn't been sure he wouldn't throw his country onto the funeral pyre for the sake of pride. The n.a.z.is had, after all. But the n.a.z.is weren't rational, and never had been. The USSR was and would remain in the struggle against imperialism indefinitely. If he had to retreat today, he would advance tomorrow.

After Urho Kekkonen had left, Molotov summoned Andrei Gromyko and Marshal Zhukov. He told them what the Finns had done. Zhukov cursed. Gromyko came to the point: "What did you tell him, Vyacheslav Mikhailovich?"

"That we withdraw the ultimatum." The words were sour as vomit in Molotov's mouth, but he brought them out even so. Turning to Zhukov, he asked, "Or do you think I made a mistake?"

"No," Zhukov said at once. "When the devil's grandmother starts fooling with your plans, you have to change them."

Molotov was relieved there. Unlike Kekkonen, he didn't show it. Had Zhukov been bound and determined to fight the Lizards, he would have brushed Molotov aside and done it. But he'd fought them a generation before and wasn't eager to repeat the experience, any more than Molotov was.

Gromyko's s.h.a.ggy eyebrows twitched. "Just when you think the Race too stupid to survive, you get a surprise like this."

"What do you suggest to avoid similar unfortunate surprises, Andrei Andreyevich?" Molotov asked.

"Well, if we were going to present Romania with an ultimatum, this would be a good time to put it back on the shelf," Gromyko answered. "Of course, we had no such plan in mind."

"Of course," Molotov said in a hollow voice. All three men looked at one another. Romania still held Bessarabia and northern Bukovina, lands the USSR had reclaimed under the 1940 Vienna Award, only to lose them again in the aftermath of the Hitlerite invasion. Now that the Reich Reich could no longer come to the aid of its friends, the Romanian government would have been next on the list after Finland. But if the Romanians screamed for help and the Lizards answered, that would just give the Race a longer frontier with the USSR. could no longer come to the aid of its friends, the Romanian government would have been next on the list after Finland. But if the Romanians screamed for help and the Lizards answered, that would just give the Race a longer frontier with the USSR.

"Dammit, why wasn't this antic.i.p.ated?" Zhukov glared at Molotov. "We could have ended up with our d.i.c.ks in the sausage machine."

As he had with Kekkonen, Molotov had to fight for calm. If Zhukov got angry enough, the Red Army would start running the Soviet Union the very next day. But Molotov knew that acting as if he was afraid of that only made it more likely to happen. After a deep breath, he asked, "Georgi Konstantinovich, did you you expect the Finns to seek support from the Lizards?" expect the Finns to seek support from the Lizards?"

"Me? No way in h.e.l.l," Zhukov answered. "But I'm a soldier. I don't pretend to be a diplomat. I leave that kind of worrying to people who do pretend to be diplomats." Now he glowered at Andrei Gromyko. Better at Gromyko than at me, Better at Gromyko than at me, Molotov thought. Molotov thought.

Gromyko's equanimity was almost as formidable as Molotov's. The foreign commissar said, "We tried something. It didn't work. The world will not end. No one reasonable could have imagined that the Finns would prefer the Race to their fellow humans."

Zhukov grunted. "They preferred the n.a.z.is to their fellow humans, back in '41. They don't much like us, for some reason or other."

That would do as an understatement till a better one came along. As Zhukov said, the Finns had become Hitler's cobelligerents as soon as they got the chance. Now they were teaching the Lizards to play balance-of-power politics? All that to avoid the influence of the peace-loving workers and peasants of the USSR? Molotov shook his head. "The Finns," he said, "are an inherently unreliable people."

"That's true enough," Marshal Zhukov agreed. In musing tones, he went on, "We could probably win a war in Finland, even against the Race. The Lizards' logistics are very bad."

"We could probably win a war against the Race in Finland," in Finland," Gromyko said acidly. "The n.a.z.is more or less won a war against the Race Gromyko said acidly. "The n.a.z.is more or less won a war against the Race in Poland. in Poland. But they didn't win their war against the Race. Could we?" But they didn't win their war against the Race. Could we?"

"Of course not," Zhukov answered at once.

"Of course not. I agree," Molotov said. "That is why, when Kekkonen presented me with a fait accompli, fait accompli, I saw no choice but to withdraw our note. We cannot antic.i.p.ate everything, Georgi Konstantinovich. Even the dialectic shows only trends, not details. We shall have other chances." I saw no choice but to withdraw our note. We cannot antic.i.p.ate everything, Georgi Konstantinovich. Even the dialectic shows only trends, not details. We shall have other chances."

"Oh, very well." Zhukov sounded like a sulky child.

"It is not as if our own sovereignty were weakened," Gromyko said, and the marshal nodded. That satisfied him, as least for the moment. It salved Molotov, but it didn't satisfy him. The Soviet Union's sovereignty survived; its prestige, as he knew too well, had taken a beating.

Something would have to be done about that. Not in Europe, barring desperate times he didn't foresee. The Lizards' eye turrets were looking that way. But the USSR had the longest land frontier of any nation-any human nation-on Earth. "Persia," Molotov murmured. "Afghanistan. China, of course. Always China."

With considerable pleasure, Atvar studied the reports he had received from Helsinki and Moscow. Swinging one eye turret toward Pshing, he said, "Here is something that, for once, appears to have worked very well indeed. The Soviet Union has retreated from its threats against Finland, and our influence over that small not-empire is increased." His mouth fell open in a laugh. "Since we had essentially no influence over Finland up until this time, any influence is an increase."

"Truth, Exalted Fleetlord," his adjutant agreed. After a moment, though, he added, "A pity we could not arrange to incorporate the not-empire into the territory we administer directly."

"I too would have liked that," Atvar said. "But when our representative broached the idea to the leaders of the Finnish not-empire, they flatly refused. We have taken what we could get-not everything we wanted, but much better than nothing."

Pshing sighed. "On this world, Exalted Fleetlord, we have never been able to get everything we wanted. Too often, we have had to count ourselves lucky to get any of what we wanted."

"That, unfortunately, is also truth," the fleetlord said. "It is why I agreed to this half measure-in fact, something less than a half measure. But it did succeed in making the SSSR pull back."

"What would you have done had the SSSR chosen to invade this small not-empire in spite of our presence there?" Pshing asked.

"Let me put it this way: I am glad we did not have to put it to the test." Atvar felt like adding an emphatic cough to that, but didn't; he didn't care to have his adjutant know just how glad he was. "One thing we have done since coming to Tosev 3 is show the Big Uglies that they can-indeed, that they must-rely on our word. Because of that, the Russkis were convinced we would honor our commitment to Finland, and so did not presume to test it. If you think this makes me unhappy, you are mistaken."

"What can we do to increase our influence over the Finns now that we have established this presence?" Pshing asked.

"I do not yet know that," Atvar answered. "We have had little to do with that subgroup of Big Uglies up till now, not least because of the truly horrendous climate of their not-empire. Reports from both the Russkis and the Deutsche indicate that they are first-rate fighters. Our own experts indicate that the Deutsche have not stinted in keeping them supplied with the most sophisticated Tosevite weaponry."

"Not explosive-metal bombs, I hope," his adjutant exclaimed.

"Not to my knowledge, for which I praise the spirits of Emperors past." Atvar cast down his eye turrets for a moment. "No, we are nearly certain the Finns do not possess weapons of that type."

"Then, in case of emergency, we can use the threat of employing such weapons against them to bring them toward meeting our requirements," Pshing said.

But Atvar made the negative hand gesture. "That has been considered. It has also been rejected. a.n.a.lysis indicates that the Finnish Tosevites would be more likely either to resist on their own or to call on the Russkis for aid against us."

"How could they do that?" Pshing asked. "They are presently calling on us for aid against the SSSR."

"Tosevite diplomatists have a phrase: balance of power," Atvar said. "What this means is, using your less annoying neighbor to protect you from your more annoying neighbor. If the annoyance level changes, the direction of the alliance can also change, and change very quickly."

"I see," Pshing said. "Yes, that is the sort of system Big Uglies would be likely to devise."

"You speak sarcastically, but your words hold an egg of truth," the fleetlord said. "Because the Big Uglies have always been divided up into so many competing factions, they have naturally needed to develop means for improving their particular group's chance for short-term success-the only kind they consider-and reducing the chances of their opponents. And now that we are a part of this compet.i.tive system, we have had to adopt or adapt these techniques ourselves. Without them, we would be at a severe disadvantage."

"Back in the days of ancientest history, I am certain that our ancestors were more virtuous," Pshing said.

"You would probably be surprised," Atvar answered. "In preparing for this mission, I had to study a good deal more ancientest history than is commonly taught in schools. I can understand why so much of it is suppressed, as a matter of fact. Back in the days before the Empire unified Home, our ancestors were a cantankerous lot. They would likely have been better equipped to deal with the Big Uglies than we are, because they seem to have spent a good deal of their time cheating one another."

"Exalted Fleetlord, you shock me," Pshing said.

"Well, I was shocked myself," Atvar admitted. "The trouble is, our early ancestors actually did these things and were experienced in diplomacy and duplicity. Since the Empire unified Home a hundred thousand years ago, we have forgotten such techniques. We did not really need them when we conquered the Rabotevs and Hallessi, though the fleetlords of those conquest fleets studied them, too. And, of course, our so-called experts aboard the colonization fleet studied our earlier conquests on the a.s.sumption that this one would be a.n.a.logous. That is why they have been of so little use to us: false a.s.sumptions always lead to bad policy."

"Experts aboard the colonization fleet," Pshing echoed. "That reminds me, Exalted Fleetlord-you will surely recall Senior Researcher Felless?"

"Oh, yes." Atvar made the affirmative gesture. "The alleged expert on Big Ugly psychology who decided to imitate or exceed the Tosevites' s.e.xual excesses. Why should I recall her, Pshing? What has she done now to draw my eye turrets in her direction? Another disgrace with ginger?"

"I am not precisely sure, Exalted Fleetlord," his adjutant answered. "No one appears to be precisely sure. She used her influence in France to obtain the release of a certain prisoner charged with previous collaboration-s.e.xual collaboration-with the Deutsche. As I understand things, it does appear that the prisoner was in fact coerced into this s.e.xual collaboration, a Tosevite crime that ginger has allowed us to discover as well."

"Indeed," the fleetlord said. "What is the difficulty if Felless was acting in the interest of justice, as appears to be the case?"

"The difficulty, Exalted Fleetlord, is that the prisoner in question also has a family connection to one of the leading Tosevite ginger smugglers in Ma.r.s.eille," Pshing replied.

"Oh. I see." Atvar's voice was heavy with meaning. "Did Senior Researcher Felless come to the Big Ugly's aid from a sense of justice or from a longing for a limitless supply of the Tosevite herb, then?"

"No one knows," Pshing answered. "Amba.s.sador Veffani notes that her work has been excellent of late, but he also suspects that she still tastes ginger. Judging motivation is not always simple."

"One could hardly disagree with that," Atvar said. "Veffani is a more than competent male. I presume he is continuing to monitor developments in France?"

"He is, Exalted Fleetlord," Pshing said. "If ambiguity diminishes, he will notify us, and will take the actions he deems justified."

"Very well." It wasn't very well, but Atvar couldn't do anything about it save wait. "What other tidbits of news have we?"

"We have received another protest from the not-empire of the United States concerning incursions of our domestic animals into their territory," Pshing said. "They have also begun complaining that the seeds of certain of our domestic plants have spread north of the border between our territory and theirs."

"If those are the worst complaints the American Big Uglies have, they should count themselves lucky," Atvar said with a scornful laugh. "They are are fortunate. They seem not to realize how fortunate they are. I shall not personally respond to this protest. You may tell them to compare their situation to that of the Deutsche and, having done so, to decide if their sniveling-use that word-has merit." fortunate. They seem not to realize how fortunate they are. I shall not personally respond to this protest. You may tell them to compare their situation to that of the Deutsche and, having done so, to decide if their sniveling-use that word-has merit."

"It shall be done, Exalted Fleetlord," Pshing replied. "In fact, I shall take considerable pleasure in doing it. The American Tosevites complain because they have lost a fingerclaw, not because they have lost fingers."

"Exactly so," Atvar said. "You may also tell them that, and you need not soften it very much. And you may tell them that they are welcome to slay any of our domestic animals they find on their side of the border, and to enjoy the meat once they have slain them. Furthermore, tell them they may pull up any plants of ours they find in their land. We shall have no complaints if they do. But if they labor under the delusion that we can stop animals from wandering and plants from propagating and spreading, my opinion is and shall remain that they are deluded indeed."

"May I tell them that that?" Pshing asked eagerly.

"Why not?" the fleetlord said. "The Americans have self-righteousness as a common failing, as the Deutsche have arrogance and the Russkis have obfuscation. Tell Amba.s.sador Lodge what he needs to hear, not just what he might want to hear."

"Again, Exalted Fleetlord, it shall be done," his adjutant said. "And, again, I will enjoy doing it."

Atvar called up some maps of the northern part of the lesser continental ma.s.s. He checked climatological data, then hissed in derision. "It appears unlikely that our plants will be able to flourish in most of the regions where the American Big Uglies raise most of their food crops-their harsh winters will kill plants used to decent weather. They have not lost even a fingerclaw; they may perhaps have chipped one. The farmers in the subregion of the greater continental ma.s.s called India have a genuine grievance against us: there, our plants compete successfully against those they are used to growing."

"As you say, the Americans have nothing large that exercises them, so they have to get exercised over small things," Pshing answered. "The next Tosevite we discover who cannot complain at any excuse or none will be the first."

"Truth!" Atvar used an emphatic cough. "I truly believe that their constant carping was what finally pushed the Deutsche into war against us. They complained so often and over so many different things, they finally persuaded themselves they were doing what was good and true and right. And so they attacked, and so they failed. I doubt it will teach them much of a lesson, but we shall do our best to make sure they lack the strength to try adventurism again."

"Unlike Tosevites, we have the patience for such a course," Pshing observed.

"Yes." The fleetlord's thought went down another road. "Fortunate that the SSSR, unlike the Reich, Reich, chose to see reason. Had the Russkis been determined to try to annex Finland in spite of our prohibition, life would have become more difficult." chose to see reason. Had the Russkis been determined to try to annex Finland in spite of our prohibition, life would have become more difficult."

"We would have beaten them," Pshing said.

"Of course we would have beaten them," Atvar replied. "But beating them would have been the same as beating the Deutsche: difficult, annoying, and much more trouble than the cause of the quarrel was worth." He paused. "And if that is not a summary of our experience on Tosev 3, I do not know what is."

.6.

Sam Yeager swung up onto his horse with a certain amount-a certain large amount-of trepidation. "I haven't done any riding since Hector was a pup," he said. "h.e.l.l, I haven't done any riding since I I was a pup: not since I got off the farm, anyhow. That's more than forty years ago now." was a pup: not since I got off the farm, anyhow. That's more than forty years ago now."

His companion, a sun-blasted sheriff named Victor Watkins, let out a chuckle around a cigarette. "It's like riding a bicycle, Lieutenant Colonel-once you figure out how to do it, you don't forget. We could go further and faster in a Jeep, but four legs'll take us where four wheels couldn't, even if the wheels are on a Jeep. And I know where the critters are, and the stuff they're grazing on."

"Okay." Yeager couldn't remember the last time he'd heard anybody actually say critters. critters. Maybe Mutt Daniels, his manager when the Lizards came to earth, had-Mutt was from Mississippi, and had a drawl thick as the mud there. Sam went on, "Seeing them is what I came here for, so let's do it." Maybe Mutt Daniels, his manager when the Lizards came to earth, had-Mutt was from Mississippi, and had a drawl thick as the mud there. Sam went on, "Seeing them is what I came here for, so let's do it."

"Right." Sheriff Watkins urged his horse forward with knees and reins. Awkwardly, Sam followed suit. The horse didn't give him a horse laugh, but it could have. It wasn't like riding a bicycle. He wished he were riding a bicycle.

At a slow walk, they went south out of Desert Center, California, toward the Chuckwalla Mountains. Desert Center lived up to its name: it was a tiny town, no more than a couple of hundred people, on U.S. 70, a place for folks on the way to somewhere else to stop and buy gas and take a leak. Yeager couldn't imagine living there; it was ever so much more isolated than the farm where he'd grown up.

He wiped sweat from his face before putting back on the broad-brimmed Stetson Watkins had lent him. "I can see how Desert Center got its name," he said. "Weather only a Lizard could love."

"Oh, I don't know," the sheriff said. "I like it pretty well myself-I've lived in these parts more than thirty years. Of course, I was born up in St. Paul, so I got sick and tired of snow in a big fat hurry."