You're nuts; everybody knew the
labor unions were backing him, hoping he'd scare the employers into
granting concessions. You're both nuts; he was backed by the
mercantile interests; they were hoping he'd run the Gilgameshers
off the planet.

Well, that was one thing you had to give him credit for. He wanted
to run out the Gilgameshers. Everybody was in favor of that.

Now, Trask could remember something he'd gotten from Harkaman.
There had been Hitler, back at the end of the First Century
Pre-Atomic; hadn't he gotten into power because everybody was
in favor of running out the Christians, or the Moslems, or the
Albigensians, or somebody?

XX

Marduk had three moons; a big one, fifteen hundred miles in
diameter, and two insignificant twenty-mile chunks of rock. The big
one was fortified, and a couple of ships were in orbit around it.
The _Nemesis_ was challenged as she emerged from her last hyperjump;
both ships broke orbit and came out to meet her, and several more
were detected lifting away from the planet.

Prince Bentrik took the communication screen, and immediately
encountered difficulties. The commandant, even after the situation
had been explained twice to him, couldn't understand. A Royal Navy
fleet unit knocked out in a battle with Space Vikings was bad
enough, but being rescued and brought to Marduk by another Space
Viking simply didn't make sense. He then screened the Royal Palace
at Malverton, on the planet; first he was icily polite to somebody
several echelons below him in the peerage, and then respectfully
polite to somebody he addressed as Prince Vandarvant. Finally, after
some minutes' wait, a frail, white-haired man in a little black
cap-of-maintenance appeared in the screen. Prince Bentrik instantly
sprang to his feet. So did all the other Mardukans in the command
room.

"Your Majesty! I am most deeply honored!"

"Are you all right, Simon?" the old gentleman asked solicitously.
"They haven't done anything to you, have they?"

"Saved my life, and my men's, and treated me like a friend and
a comrade, Your Majesty. Have I your permission to present,
informally, their commander, Prince Trask of Tanith?"

"Indeed you may, Simon. I owe the gentleman my deepest thanks."

"His Majesty, Mikhyl the Eighth, Planetary King of Marduk," Prince
Bentrik said. "His Highness, Lucas, Prince Trask, Planetary Viceroy
of Tanith for his Majesty Angus the First of Gram."

The elderly monarch bowed h