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massacre and sacked the town. After returning to their ships, they had opened fire with nuclear missiles.

“Sounds like Dunnan,” Hugh Rathmore said in disgust. “He just went kill-crazy. The bad blood of Blackcliffe.”

“There are funny things about this,” Boake Valkanhayn said. “I’d say it was a terror-raid, but who in Gehenna was he trying to terrorize?”

“I wondered about that, too.” Harkaman frowned. “This town where he landed seems, such as it was, to have been the planetary capital. They just landed, pretending friendship, which I can’t see why they needed to pretend, and then began looting and massacring. There wasn’t anything of real value there; all they took was what the men could carry themselves or stuff into their landing craft, and they did that because they have what amounts to a religious taboo against landing anywhere and leaving without stealing something. The real loot was at these two other towns; a steel mill and big stocks of steel at one, and all that skunk-apple oil at the other. So what did they do? They dropped a five-megaton bomb on each one, and blew both of them to Em-See-Square. That was a terror-raid pure and simple, but as Boake inquires, just who were they terrorizing? If there were big cities somewhere else on the planet, it would figure. But there aren’t. They blew out the two biggest cities, and all the loot in them.”

“Then they wanted to terrorize somebody off the planet.”

“But nobody’d hear about it off-planet,” somebody protested.

“The Mardukans would; they trade with Tetragrammaton,” the acknowledged bastard of somebody named Morvill said. “They have a couple of ships a year there.”

“That’s right,” Trask agreed. “Marduk.”

“You mean, you think Dunnan’s trying to terrorize Marduk?” Valkanhayn demanded. “Great Satan, even he isn’t crazy enough for that!”

Baron Rathmore started to say something about what Andray Dunnan was crazy enough to do, and what his uncle was crazy enough to do. It was just one of the cracks he had been making since he’d come to Tanith and didn’t have to look over his shoulder while he was making them.

“I think he is, too,” Trask said. “I think that is exactly what he is doing. Don’t ask me why; as Otto is fond of remarking, he’s crazy and we aren’t, and that gives him an advantage. But what have we gotten, since those Gilgameshers told us about his picking up Burrik’s ship and the Honest Horris? Until today, we’ve heard nothing from any other Space Viking. What we have gotten was stories from Gilgameshers about raids on planets where they trade, and every one of them is also a planet where Marduk ships trade. And in every case, there has been little or nothing reported about valuable loot taken. The stories are all about wanton and murderous bombings. I think Andray Dunnan is making war on Marduk.”

“Then he’s crazier than his grandfather and his uncle both!” Rathmore cried.

“You mean, he’s making a string of terror-raids on their trade-planets, hoping to pull the Mardukan space-navy away from the home planet?” Harkaman had stopped being incredulous. “And when he gets them all lured away, he’ll make a fast raid?”

“That’s what I think. Remember our fundamental postulate: Dunnan is crazy. Remember how he convinced himself that he was the rightful heir to the ducal crown of Wardshaven?” And remember his insane passion for Elaine; he pushed that thought hastily from him. “Now, he’s convinced that he’s the greatest Space Viking in history. He has to do something worthy of that distinction. When was the last time anybody attacked a civilized planet? I don’t mean Gilgamesh, I mean a planet like Marduk.”

“A hundred and twenty years ago; Prince Havilgar of Haulteclere, six ships, against Aton. Two ships got back. He didn’t. Nobody’s tried it since,” Harkaman said.

“So Dunnan the Great will do it. I hope he tries,” he surprised himself by adding. “That’s provided I find out what happened. Then I could stop thinking about him.”

There was a time when he had dreaded the possibility that somebody else might kill Dunnan before he could.

XVIII

Seshat, Obidicut, Lugaluru, Audhumla.

The young man elevated by his father’s death in the Dunnan raid to the post of hereditary President of the democratic Republic of Tetragrammaton had been sure that the Marduk ships which came to his planet traded also on those. There had been some difficulty about making contact, and the first face-to-face meeting had begun in an atmosphere of bitter distrust on his part. They had met out of doors; around them, spread wrecked and burned buildings, and hastily constructed huts and shelters, and wide spaces of charred and slagged rubble.

“They blew up the steel mill here, and the oil-refinery at Jannsboro. They bombed and strafed the little farm-towns and villages. They scattered radioactives that killed as many as the bombing. And after they had gone away, this other ship came.”

“The Damnthing? She bore the head of a beast with three very big horns?”

“That’s the one. They did a little damage, at first. When the captain found out what had happened to us, he left some food and medicines for us.” Roger-fan-Morvill Esthersan hadn’t mentioned that.

“Well, we’d like to help you, if we can. Do you have nuclear power? We can give you a little equipment. Just remember it of us, when you’re back on your feet; we’ll be back to trade later. But don’t think you owe us anything. The man who did this to you is my enemy. Now, I want to talk to every one of your people who can tell me anything at all.⁠ ⁠…”

Seshat was the closest; they went there first. They were too late. Seshat had had it already, and on the evidence of the radioactivity counters, not too long ago. Four hundred hours at most. There had been two hellburners; the cities on which they had fallen were still-smoking pits literally burned into the ground and the bedrock below, at the center of five hundred mile radii

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