Uelein gestured negation. "No woman would consent.

Not to anyone not of choice, and to this man, none at all."

The syntax was a little funny, but Barton caught the meaning. Before he could speak, though, Limila said, "There is no thought that any woman will be of submis- sion to ap Fenn. The prospect of such development, though, will be of lure to bria^him from hiding."

But it wouldn't work; Barton knew that much. It was too simple. There had to be more to it, before ap Fenn would bite and be hooked. He tried to think; at first his mind wouldn't give him anything useful, and then it did.

He raised his voice to cut through the quiet cross-talk.

"Tevann? I know you don't have government in the same sense as we do. But could Vertan, for instance, fake it to be of speech for this world?" Tevann gestured assent, and Barton moved his thinking along the rails. He said, "What if ap Fena gets hints that besides the beauty contest, he's going to be asked by a high-ranking Tilaran to take over this planet as some kind of viceroy or proconsul, govern- ing for Earth?"

"Barton, I had not thought you were of madness," said Tevann.

"And he is not," said Limila. "But ap Fenn is."

The hassle straightened out, and Barton was able to get his third line into the proposal-that Vertan would

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ask amnesty for Ship One's crew, Annand Dupree, and Arleta Fox if she needed it by now. "As a condition,"

Barton said, "to granting him viceregal status."

Myra snorted. "He'd never agree."

"I don't expect him to. The idea is to give him some- thing to haggle over, to fix his attention. Then-"

Arleta Fox gasped. "You mean you don't know, Barton?"

"Don't know what?"

"While you were in that hospital, doing whatever it was." That's right; she hadn't been told yet. Barton made a mental note,-as she said, "Armand and you, specifically, are on the proscribed list. Ap Fenn doesn't merely want you; now he wants you dead or alive. And preferably dead, the rumor says."

Cheng cleared his throat. "Simply dead? Without trial?'*

Fox nodded, and Cheng said, "It shouldn't make any dif- ference; we already knew he planned to frame Barton in a kangaroo court. But this! Barton, I'm abandoning my dedication to non-violence for the duration. If you -need any triggers pulled, I'll take one."

'That goes for me, too," said Myra Hake.

*Thanks." For a moment. Barton felt all choked up, And suddenly he had second thoughts. "You realize, don't you, that regardless of the rights and wrongs of this whole mess, once you're identifiably involved with the execution of this brass-bound murderer, you're outlawed from Earth forever?" r

"And you. Barton?'* Softly, Limila said it.

"Me?" He shrugged. "I don't need Earth; I don't live there any more. When the fleet lifted-Tarleton's, I mean -I figured right then that I was seeing the last of Earth."

He was almost sure he meant what he said.

Limila went to call Vertan, wanting to catch him be- fore he left his place of work because channels there were less likely to be tapped, and present, the group's plan to him. Because if Vertan wouldn't go along with it, back to the old drawing board. Barton wandered into another room and got himself a glass of the pale eseen wine, and came back to find Arleta Fox and Myra^aSake in conference. Arlie had one hand to her forehead; she squinted at a mirror held in the other.

"I don't think it'll work," said Myra. "Even if* we fix you bald in front, the rest of your hair looks like no

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Tilaran's ever did. Then there's the height problem ..."

No lean-faced Tilaran looked like a cute bulldog, ei- ther, but Barton, eavesdropping, kept his mouth shut, as Doctor Fox said, "I could wear Limila's wig; she's not using it any more. And high-lift shoes. It's not as though I had to fool real Tilarans. Just ap Fenn's ignorant troops."

Now Barton joined them. "You sure the admiral hasn't managed to buy himself a few Tilaran finks?"

Looking around to him, Arleta took her hand away from her forehead. "I'm sure you think I'm silly, too, even considering trying to pass for Tilaran." A quick laugh. "Well, maybe I am. But I don't want to stay holed up, unable to visit the towns." She shook her head. "I think I'll try me disguise, anyway, and see how it looks.

If only to give me something to do." A shrug.

"Your question, though. No Tilarans are working for ap Fenn, except officially and aboveboard, such as Fleet Liaison. As for official cooperation with his insane ven- detta-well, when he sends copies of his edicts around, and of course in English rather than in Tilaran, Vertan posts his copies on the dart board ia the lounge. And I understand that the other recipients react about the same way."

"Yeh; if rd thought, I suppose I should've guessed that. I mean, what's ap Fenn got to offer that any Tilaran wants?" -

"That's it, of course." said Myra Hake. "He's shown no interest in these people, nothing but contempt for them. Calls them 'Tillies.' all that. Everything that Earth had to offer in, a military way, they . already have, from you and Tarieton."

She frowned. "I can't imagine how he can be so stupid as to ignore the weapons that our fleet got, from our allies."

"What I can't imagine," said Barton, "is the stupidity that put that bastard in charge of the second fleet."

Before Vertan made a decision, Limila reported, he wanted to consider the group's plan thoroughly. A con- ference was in order, but it would be at least three days before Vertan would be free to come and attend. Barton shrugged. "Well, that gives us time to kick the details around a little better, ourselves."

He stood. "But right now, my lunch has settled down

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pretty good. I think 111 go out and stretch my muscles

some more."

Dupree went with him; the short man had decided that he needed to get back into better condition himself.

"That's what defeated me when I tried for ap Fenn," be said- "Because I still felt good-and moved well, I thought-I hadn't realized how the extra kilos would slow me down when I couldn't afford it." He made a one- sided smile. "Since that fiasco, needless to sav, I have put myself on a considerably more restricted diet."

Dupree had quite a bit of youth on Barton, but when they began running, he couldn't keep up for long. Panting, he waved a hand and said, "Go at your own pace." And Barton did. Going up a rise, skirting a grove of feathery, purple-tinged trees, Barton dropped into a Jog. Past the grove he saw Cheng and Myra practicing on Barton't improvised target range; as he passed, Arieta Fox came to join them. Was everybody turning soldier? Barton wondered. Well, a little over-enthusiasm couldn't hurt.

Running had become painless enough, now, that it left his mind free for other thoughts. Odd, that since learning of the slaughter of Ship Thirty-four, of Captain Lom- bard and Miss Chindra and the other eight or ten he'd never known. Barton had had no qualms at all about eradicating Karsen ap Fenn. He had simply thought of method, not justification. But one question lay not only open, but almost unasked: What happens af forward?

It was time he put some thought to that question. '"

For one thing. Barton knew nothing at all about the person or persons in line to succeed ap Fenn- .Maybe Vertan could give him a clue, or Arlie Fox; he'd have to ask. But the answers to such questions were out,of his control, anyway, so meanwhile he might's well look at his possibilities, objectively. If there was any such thing as being objective, in a mess like this ...

One. Go to ground on Tilara and stay hid out, keeping a communication line to Vertan in case Tarleton got back or someone came from Earth, who might1 be ap- proachable. Tilara was a planet, not a small to'uA; if Barton's people wanted to hide from Earth's au^ority, Earth's authority could go whistle. Especially since Bar- ton, bringer of the means to stop the terror of Demu raids, was sort of a hero on Tilara. And ap qpnn was quite the opposite. But still, the idea didn't appeal. Hid-

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ing out was all right when you had to, but Barton had a hunch that he could get tired of it in a hurry. In fact, he already had. Because after a while, what would he do with himself?

Two. Get Vertan to let him (and his) have a Tilaran ship, maybe Captain Etraig's, that he and Vertan had visited. Now that Barton thought about the problem, he didn't think he'd need any other ships for decoys, to get past the second fleet's patroL The thing was, starships lifted straight up because any other way wasted one hell of a lot of fuel. So that's what everybody expected and was braced for. But if all he wanted to do was, say, get to Chaleen-and he remembered those coordinates-he could lift and cut low and be halfway around the planet, plowing air all the way, and then turn upstairs and lift in any direction be chose. Hidden by the planet itself when he made his move, he'd be long gone before the patrol ships could get a fix on his drive wake. And then they couldn't be sure of anything, because Vertan hadn't given ap Fenn the file data on drive wake detection patterns for Tilaran ships. And wouldn't- Barton could escape, all right.

To Chaleen. And there again, what would he find to do?