Artemisia said, "He is the man who-"
Gillbret put a thin and shaking hand to his brow. "Control yourself, Biron. Are you mad?"
"This is the man! I am not mad!" shouted Biron. He controlled himself with an effort. "All right. There's no point yelling, I suppose. Get off my ship, Jonti. Now that's said quietly enough. Get off my ship."
"My dear Farrill. For what reason?"
Gillbret made incoherent sounds in his throat, but Biron pushed him aside roughly and faced the seated Autarch. "You made one mistake, Jonti. Just one. You couldn't tell in advance that when I got out of my dormitory room back on Earth I would leave my wrist watch inside. You see, my wrist-watch strap happened to be a radiation indicator."
The Autarch blew a smoke ring and smiled pleasantly.
Biron said, "And that strap never turned blue, Jonti. There was no bomb in my room that night. There was only a deliberately planted dud! If you deny it, you are a liar, Jonti, or Autarch, or whatever you please to call yourself.
"What is more, you planted that dud. You knocked me out with Hypnite and arranged the rest of that night's comedy. It makes quite obvious sense, you know. If I had been left to myself, I would have slept through the night and would never have known that anything was out of the way. So who rang me on the visiphone until he was sure I had awakened? Awakened, that is, to discover the bomb, which had been deliberately placed near a counter so that I couldn't miss it. Who blasted my door in so that I might leave the room before I found out that the bomb was only a dud after all? You must have enjoyed yourself that night, Jonti."
Biron waited for effect, but the Autarch merely nodded in polite interest. Biron felt the fury mount. It was like punching pillows, whipping water, kicking air.
He said harshly, "My father was about to be executed. I would have learned of it soon enough. I would, have gone to Nephelos, or not gone. I would have followed my own good sense in the matter, confronted the Tyranni openly or not as I decided. I would have known my chances. I would have been prepared for eventualities.
"But you wanted me to go to Rhodia, to see Hinrik. But, ordinarily, you couldn't expect me to do what you wanted. I wasn't likely to go to you for advice. Unless, that is, you could stage an appropriate situation. You did!
"I thought I was being bombed and I could think of DO reason. You could. You seemed to have saved my life. You seemed to know everything; what I ought to do next, for instance. I was off balance, confused. I followed your advice."
Biron ran out of breath and waited for an answer. There was none. He shouted, "You did not explain that the ship on which I left Earth was a Rhodian ship and that you had seen to it that the captain had been informed of my true identity. You did not explain that you intended me to be in the hands of the' Tyranni the instant I landed on Rhodia. Do you deny that?"
There was a long pause. Jonti stubbed out his cigarette.
Gillbret chafed one hand in the other. "Biron, you are being ridiculous. The Autarch wouldn't-"
Then Jonti looked up and said quietly, "But the Autarch would. I admit it all. You are quite right, Biron, and I congratulate you on your penetration. The bomb was a dud planted by myself, and I sent you to Rhodia with the intention of having you arrested by the Tyranni."
Biron's face cleared. Some of the futility of life vanished. He said, "Someday, Jonti, I will settle that matter. At the moment, it seems you are Autarch of Lingane with three ships waiting for you out there. That hampers me a bit more than I would like. However, the Remorseless is my ship. I am its pilot. Put on your suit and get out. The space line is still in place."
"It is not your ship. You are a pirate rather than a pilot."
"Possession is all the law here. You have five minutes to get into your suit."
"Please. Let's avoid dramatics. We need one another and I have no intention of leaving."
"I don't need you. I wouldn't need you if the Tyrannian home fleet were closing in right now and you could blast them out of space for me."
"Farrill," said Jonti, "you are talking and acting like an adolescent. I've let you have your say. May I have mine?"
"No. I see no reason to listen to you."
"Do you see one now?"
Artemisia screamed. Biron made one movement, then stopped. Red with frustration, he remained tense but helpless.
Jonti said, "I do take certain precautions. I am sorry to be so crude as to use a weapon as a threat. But I imagine it will help me force you to hear me."
The weapon he held was a pocket blaster. It was not designed to pain or stun. It killed!
He said, "For years I have been organizing Lingane against the Tyranni. Do you know what that means? It has not been easy. It has been almost impossible. The Inner Kingdoms will offer no help. We've known that from long experience. There is no salvation for the Nebular Kingdoms but what they work out for themselves. But to convince our native leaders of this is no friendly game. Your father was active in the matter and was killed. Not a friendly game at all. Remember that.
"And your father's capture was a crisis to us. It was life and horrible death to us. He was in our inner circles and the Tyranni were obviously not far behind us. They had to be thrown off stride. To do so, I could scarcely temper my dealings with honor and integrity. They fry no eggs.
"I couldn't come to you and say, 'Farrill, we've got to put the Tyranni on a false scent. You're the son of the Rancher and therefore suspicious. Get out there and be friendly with Hinrik of Rhodia so that the Tyranni may look in the wrong direction. Lead them away from Lingane. It may be dangerous; you may lose your life, but the ideals for which your father died come first.'