Jump. I didn't want them to think I knew that a Tyrannian ship could make the Jumps automatically."
"Do you think the rebellion world found out that little fact? Did you tell them?"
"I didn't tell them. I had no chance. I wasn't there long enough. Conscious, that is. But I don't know how long I was unconscious and what they managed to find out for themselves."
Biron stared at the visiplate. Judging from the rigidity of the picture it presented, the ship they were on might have been nailed in space. The Remorseless was traveling at the rate of ten thousand miles an hour, but what was that to the immense distances of space. The stars were hard, bright, and motionless. They had a hypnotic quality about them.
He said, "Then where are we going? I take it you still don't know where the rebellion world is?"
"I don't. But I have an idea who would. I am almost sure I know." Gillbret was eager about it.
"Who?"
"The Autarch of Lingane."
"Lingane?" Biron frowned. He had heard the name some time back, it seemed to him, but he had forgotten the connection. "Why he?"
"Lingane was the last Kingdom captured by the Tyranni. It is not, shall we say, as pacified as the rest. Doesn't that make sense?"
"As far as it goes. But how far is that?"
"If you want another reason, there is your father."
"My father?" For a moment Biron forgot that his father was dead. He saw him standing before his mind's eye, large and alive, but then he remembered and there was that same cold wrench inside him. "How does my father come into this?"
"He was at court six months ago. I gained certain notions as to what he wanted. Some of his talks with my cousin, Hinrik, I overheard."
"Oh, Uncle," said Artemisia impatiently.
"My dear?"
"You had no right to eavesdrop on Father's private discussions."
Gillbret shrugged. "Of course not, but it was amusing, and useful as well. "
Biron interrupted, "Now, wait. You say it was six months ago that my father was at Rhodia?" He felt excitement mount.
"Yes."
"Tell me. While there, did he have access to the Director's collection of Primitivism? You told me once that the Director had a large library of matters concerning Earth. "
"I imagine so. The library is quite famous and it is usually made available to distinguished visitors, if they're interested. They usually aren't, but your father was. Yes, I remember that very well. He spent nearly a day there."
That checked. It had been half a year ago that his father had first asked his help. Biron said, "You yourself know the library well, I imagine."
"Of course."
"Is there anything in the library that would suggest that there. exists a document on Earth of great military value?"
Gillbret was blank of face and, obviously, blank of mind.
Biron said, "Somewhere in the last centuries of prehistoric
Earth there must have been such a document. I can only tell you that my father thought it to be the most valuable single item in the Galaxy, and the deadliest. I was to have gotten it for him, but I left Earth too soon, and in any case"-his voice faltered-"he died too soon."
But Gillbret was still blank. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You don't understand. My father mentioned it to me first six months ago. He must have learned of it in the library on Rhodia. If you've been through it yourself, can't you tell me what it was he must have learned?"
But Gillbret could only shake his head.
Biron said, "Well, continue with your story."
Gillbret said, "They spoke of the Autarch of Lingane, your father and my cousin. Despite your father's cautious phraseology, Biron, it was obvious that the Autarch was the fount and head of the conspiracy.
"And then"-he hesitated-"there was a mission from Lingane and the Autarch himself was at its head. I-I told him of the rebellion world."
"You said a while ago you told nobody," said Biron.
"Except the Autarch. I had to know the truth."
"What did he tell you?"
"Practically nothing. But then, he had to be cautious too. Could he trust me? I might have been working for the Tyranni. How could he know? But he didn't close the door altogether. It's our only lead."
"Is it?" Biron said. "Then we'll go to Lingane. One place, I suppose, is like another."
Mention of his father had depressed him, and, for the moment, nothing mattered much. Let it be Lingane.
Let it be Lingane! That was easy to say. But how does one go about pointing the ship. at