abc | Page 2

Hunter asked.
"The king worshiped his daughter and his dying request to her was that
she promise to marry Lord Narf. Narf's father had been the king's
closest friend and the king was sure that his old friend's son would
always love and care for Lyla. Lyla dutifully, at once, married Narf by
proxy, which is like a legally binding formal engagement under Vestan
law. Four days from now the time limit is up and they'll be formally
married. Unless she should do the unprecedented thing of renouncing
the proxy marriage."
Rockford drained the last of the beer from the can. "Those are the
characters involved in our play. I have a plan. That's why I told Space
Patrol to send me a brand-new second lieutenant--young, strong, fairly
handsome--and expendable. I hope you can be philosophical about the
latter."
"Sir," Hunter said, unable to keep a touch of stiffness out of his tone, "it
is not exactly unknown in the Space Patrol for a man to die in the line
of duty."
"Ah ... yes." Rockford was regarding him with disturbing amusement.
"You are thinking, of course, of dying dramatically behind a pair of
blazing blasters. But you will soon learn, my boy, that a soldier's duty
is to protect the worlds he represents by whatever actions will produce
the best results, no matter how unheroic those actions may be."

* * * * *
"Attention, please." It was the voice of the pilot. "We are now going to
land."
Hunter preceded Rockford out of the helicopter and onto the green
grass of a small valley, across which tall, red-trunked cloud trees were
scattered. Pale gray ghost trees, with knobby, twisted limbs, grew
thickly among the cloud trees. There was a group of rustic cabins,
connected by gravel paths, and a much larger building which he
assumed would be a meeting hall.
"Hello."
He turned, and looked into the brown eyes of a girl. Her green skirt and
orange blouse made a gay splash of color, her red-brown hair was
wind-tumbled and carefree about her shoulders, in her hand was a
bouquet of bright spring flowers.
But there was no smile of spring in the dark eyes and the snub-nosed
little face was solemn and old beyond its years.
"You're Lieutenant Hunter, aren't you?" she asked in the same low,
quiet voice.
"Princess Lyla!" There seemed to be genuine delight in Rockford's
greeting as he hurried over. "You're looking more like a queen every
day!"
Her face lighted with a smile, making it suddenly young and beautiful.
"I'm so glad to see you again, George--"
"Ah ... good afternoon."
The voice was loud, unpleasantly gravelly. They turned, and Hunter
saw a tall, angular man of perhaps forty whose pseudogenial smile was
not compatible with his sour, square-jawed face and calculating little
eyes.

He spoke to Rockford. "You're Ambassador Rockford, here to
represent the Terran Republic, I believe." He jerked his head toward
Princess Lyla, who was no longer smiling. "My wife, Princess Lyla."
"Oh, she and I have been friends since she was ten, Lord Narf."
"And this young man"--Narf glanced at Hunter--"is your aide, I
presume. Lyla, did you think to send anyone after their luggage?"
A servant was already carrying their luggage--and cases of Rockford's
beer--out of the helicopter. Hunter followed the other toward the cabins.
Narf, in the lead, was saying:
"... Ridiculously primitive here, now, but I'm having some decent
furniture and well-trained servants sent up from my Sea Island
estates...."
* * * * *
The cabin was large and very comfortable, as Rockford mentioned to
Princess Lyla.
"I'm glad you like it," she said. "Val Boran and Envoy Sonig are
already here and we'll meet for dinner in the central hall. I thought that
if we all got acquainted in a friendly atmosphere like that, it might help
a lot to...."
"That reminds me"--Narf glanced at his watch--"I promised this Boran
he could have a discussion with me--Vesta-Jardeen tariff policies. I
suppose he's already waiting. Come on, Lyla--it will do you no harm to
listen and learn a bit about interplanetary business."
For a long moment she looked at Narf silently, her eyes thoughtful,
then she said to Rockford, "If you will excuse us, please. And be
prepared for Alonzo to come bounding in the minute he learns you're
here."
She walked beside Narf to the door and out it, the top of her dark hair

coming just even with his shoulder.
"And that," Rockford said as he settled down in the largest, softest
chair, "was king-to-be Narf, whose business ability is such that all his
inherited Sea Island estates are gone but the one Lyla saved for him and
who owes a total of ten million monetary units, to everyone from call
girls to yacht builders."