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  Jake had other ideas. He’d learned a lot about the way telepaths fought and knew their weakness. He remembered the crew in the twenty-man scout, the way they had sat for hours at a stretch, silent, their minds straining to catch an enemy thought and so gain warning. Sometimes a man would break and throw everyone into confused panic. Telepaths were not and could not be isolated, the emotions of one affected them all.

  The forces of the Matriach, like all telepaths, would rely wholly on learning what the enemy intended and then concentrate their forces to defeat the predicted attack. With each crew-member acting like a wild broadcasting radio set security was impossible. The lowest deckhand knew exactly what the commander intended; secrecy and surprise were unknown. The side with the keenest telepaths and the ability to concentrate, the heaviest forces the soonest invariably won.

  Unless, of course, they had a freak like Jake to contend with.

  CHAPTER 4

  Ayha, the Matriach of Amrha sat with her council and tapped one slender foot impatiently on the marble floor as councillor after councillor rose, gave his opinion on the state of affairs, then sat only to have those same opinions repeated after him by another.

  “So, gentlemen, I take it that you are in perfect accord?” Their thoughts answered her, a smooth, calm, reassuring wave of semi-amused confidence. Elgar, Head of the Council, rose to sum up their deliberations.

  “The invading fleet, your Majesty, is but another gesture by the Gliken. He knows, and his commander must know, that they can have no possible success. A little raiding, some minor destruction that is all they can accomplish.”

  “I see.” The tapping of the slender foot grew faster. “Is that all?”

  “All, your Majesty?”

  “Do I not make myself clear? Or is it that you consider that I am not fitted to be informed of military matters?” Her thoughts probed mind after mind. Elgar had the grace to look uncomfortable. Ahya smiled at him, her eyes betraying her amusement. She knew perfectly well that he had never been able to accustom himself to the youth of the new Matriarch.

  “There is little of which to inform your Majesty.” Elgar recovered his calm. “Our scouts have orbited the invading fleet and have gained information from the crews. The object of their attack is Aamon, a planet well to the edge of your Majesty’s empire. They hope to be able to win the planet and use it as a base for punitive raiding.” His amusement was obvious. “As a battle plan it lacks both sense and logic.”

  “You are certain of that?”

  “There can be no question of doubt. Three individual scouts each crewed with our keenest minds have gained the information.”

  “I see,” Ayha was young but she was no fool. A frown creased her high forehead. “This information was gained from the crews, you say?”

  “Yes, your Majesty.”

  “Not the commanding officer?”

  “No specification was made.” Elgar looked blank. “But does it make any difference? What the commander knows the crews know also. The information must be the same.”

  It was, of course, true and she knew it but a streak of stubbornness insisted that she continue if only to shake some of their calm placidity. Also, despite her hatred of the Gliken, she didn’t underestimate him. It was not his way to send a fleet to utter destruction. The more she considered it the more she became convinced that there was something she didn’t know. Elgar tried to reassure her.

  “Military matters are a thing of logic and sense, he said. “I admit that, on the face of it, there seems to be no logic to their battle plan but on the other hand, what else can they do?”

  Being a woman she chose to argue.

  “I am not concerned with logic, Elgar, only survival. The Gliken of Kund won his War of Liberation despite all logic which stated that he could not possibly gain a victory. If he can win such a war we cannot afford to be placid. Who is commanding the enemy fleet?”

  “A man named Merton, your Majesty. A Terran.”

  “Their greatest commander.” Ayha rose to her feet, the council was over. “Find out more about this Merton.”

  *

  Merton was a monster. Merton was a strange, frightening, enigma Merton had never known defeat and, almost single-handed had broken the deadlock of the last war. Merton had the kind of reputation which made him a hero on one side and something to terrify children on the other. Ayha heard the news while watching the progress of the enemy fleet.

  “They are moving towards their destruction.” Elgar stood at her side in the control chamber. The walls were flanked by huge screens portraying space beyond Amrha, the images transmitted by scanner-laden scouts. The quiet breathing of technicians merged with the soft electronic noises and the hum of air conditioners. Above them, isolated in solitude, the keenest minds of the empire sent their thoughts probing into space to pick up enemy radiations.

  “They are still heading towards Aamon?”

  “Yes, your Majesty.” Elgar gestured towards the pinpoints of ruby lights which represented the enemy fleet. “I have of course, dispatched our own forces to intercept them. They will engage about half-way between here and Aamon.” His thoughts grew cold. “I venture to state that we shall achieve an overwhelming victory.”

  “Perhaps.” Ayha turned from the screen. “I wonder how many others have thought that—and woken to conquest?”

  “Your Majesty?”

  “I have learned much about this Merton.” Ayha glanced back at the screen. “He is acting like a fool and yet he does not have the reputation of being stupid. Tell me is it true that no one can read his mind?”

  “Yes, your Majesty.”

  “They are close.” She stared at the screen. “Too close.”

  “Their flight pattern takes them close to Amrha,” explained Elgar. “But they are headed directly towards Aamon.”

  “And out forces have been sent to intercept them.” Ayha nodded. “The usual military counter-play. Amrha, of course is well protected?”

  “Naturally, your majesty.” Elgar grew confident. “There is nothing to fear, Your Majesty. Even if the enemy change their plans we shall have ample warning and our planetary defences can blast them from the skies.” His confidence grew. “Never forget that we shall know exactly what he intends at all times. If he decides to change plans then his crew will know and so shall we. There will be time enough to adjust our defences.”

  He was wrong.

  *

  Jake knew what he was doing. He knew how to fight against telepaths. They couldn’t read his mind and so had no inkling of his true intentions. All they could do was to read the minds of his crew and, since they wouldn’t know the truth until the last moment, the information wouldn’t be of any real value.

  Jake’s one big weapon was the fact that telepaths couldn’t lie. As they couldn’t lie they couldn’t bluff. He could.

  As a bluff it was elementary but it worked. The fleet suddenly altered direction and plunged down towards Amrha. The defending observers, accustomed to having plenty of time to make decisions which, in turn, were always based on received information, were caught at a loss. Before they knew it the enemy had penetrated their outer defences and the skies were filled with flaming wreckage.

  They fought back but they had no chance. Ships grounded and disgorged assault troops. Orbiting vessels swept the skies, the Capital itself was under attack and half the planet in danger of extermination. Bitterly the Matriarch accepted the inevitable.

  Jake accepted her surrender in person. He made a brave figure in his jewelled uniform and, despite herself, Ayha was impressed. Jake shared her emotion.

  Tomore’s description hadn’t prepared him for this but he should have known better. The people of Kund were dark-haired, razor-faced types with a liking for avoirdupois in their women. Ayha was a tall, slender, blue-eyed blonde and fitted Jake’s Terran concept of female beauty as if she had been the original model.

  “Your Majesty.” He made a low bow. “Truly, your worlds are beautiful but there is n
one to approach your loveliness.”

  “Thank you.” Ayha had learned much about her conqueror including his penchant for verbal communication at all times. Slyly she tried to read his mind and met a blankness which, because she had never met it before, was both terrifying and intriguing. Terrifying because how could you trust or understand anyone when their thoughts remained secret? Intriguing because it presented a mystery and Ayha, like most women, found mystery romantic.

  “I regret the damage done to your planet,” continued Jake. “May I compliment you on your wise decision to surrender?”

  “I had little choice.” It was Ayha’s turn to pay a compliment. “May I congratulate you on your military prowess?”

  “I am accustomed to victory.” Jake was deliberately casual. The higher his reputation stood the better it suited his purpose. Just what that purpose was came out during the long, unnecessarily involved negotiations occupying the next few days.

  “I believe he wants to marry you.” Elgar, alone with the Matriarch in her private quarters, paced the floor as he mentioned it. Ayha was indignant.

  “Marry me? A creature of the Gliken? Never!”

  “Don’t you like him?” Elgar was old but shrewd. He knew the power of young blood and had caught the way she had reacted to the Terran. Ayha shrugged.

  “As a man he’s presentable enough, clever too, I’ll admit that. But marriage?” She shook her head. “No.”

  “It would be difficult,” mused Elgar. “After all, he practically owns the empire now and the Gliken would reward him for his victory. Such a man could take his choice of any high-born woman and any ruler would be only too pleased to acquire his loyalty.”

  “Are you suggesting that I am not good enough for him?” Little spots of colour touched her cheeks. Elgar remained silent. “Well?”

  “Let us be practical, your Majesty,” soothed Elgar. “I am still amazed that the Lord Merton has not yet annexed Amrha in the name of the Gliken of Kund. The fact that he has not gives me to hope that, perhaps, there could be an alternative.”

  “Marriage? To me?”

  “What else? The Lord Merton is an ambitious man and, as we know to our cost, a military genius. He would rise high under the Gliken but he would still be a servant of Kund. If we could offer him something better, make him a ruler in his own right...” He paused as anger washed around him.

  “So you would sell me!” Ayha was furious. “So he would condescend to marry me for his own profit!” Her anger rose even higher. “Just like all the other suitors I have sent packing.”

  “Not so!” Elgar was too old a statesman to easily lose patience but her stubbornness irritated him. “Think, your Majesty, what can you give him that he does not already possess? Your empire? He has that. Yourself? Perhaps, but that is all. In returnee can give you Amrha and his genius to protect it forever. It is fortunate that you find favour in his eyes.”

  It was no way to address a Matriarch and they both knew it but Ayha was too sensible to be annoyed. Instead she lost her previous anger as she considered what Elgar had told her. The old man had sense and reason on his side and arranged marriages between the nobility were too common for the concept to offend her. And, if she had to get married at all, it might as well be to the strange Terran who, she had to admit, attracted her in more ways than one.

  CHAPTER 5

  The Gliken of Kund was not amused. He had not only lost a third of his fleet, calmly appropriated by Jake, but had been made to feel a laughing stock over the entire galaxy. For a wedding present he sent half his remaining forces to destroy the new empire of his erstwhile commander. Jake, warned by his outflung scouts, reluctantly left his bride and attended to the irritating business of war. He defeated the invading fleet, assimilated both vessels and crews and then, because he wanted no more interruptions of his honeymoon, turned his attention to the Gliken. The war raged for almost a year and, at the end of it, the Gliken was dead and Jake ruled over his far-flung empire.

  The end of the war should have brought peace. Instead it brought fresh problems. Tomore, still Jake’s second-in-command, listened sympathetically to his complaints.

  “The trouble with conquest is that it never seems to stop,” said Jake bitterly. “All I wanted was peace and a chance to live my own life. So what happens? The Gliken couldn’t let bygones be bygones. He had to want revenge and force a war I didn’t want. With him out of the way I thought everything would be nice and peaceful.” He snorted. “How wrong can you be?”

  “Twickwist?”

  “Him too?” Jake held his head in his hands. “No. The latest is Grendaleck. He’s started raiding our commerce and won’t stop making trouble. I guess I’ll have to attend to him next.”

  “And then?”

  “Then I’m going home for a nice long rest. Do you know that I’ve never ever seen my son?”

  “He’s a fine, strong baby,” said Tomore hastily. “But I do think that you should attend to Twickwist before Grendaleck. He’s gathering a fleet and intends cutting out quite a large portion of your empire. If you leave him too late he will be that much harder to get rid of.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” said Jake glumly. “All right, Twickwist first and then home.”

  It wasn’t that simple. He had, Jake discovered, caught a tiger by the tail. His victories had smashed the status quo and his empire was ringed with ambitious rulers each of whom imagined that his time of destiny had dawned. Jake, simply to keep the peace, had to attack each in turn. In this he was helped by his reputation which almost automatically gave him victory whenever he engaged an enemy. Other rulers, seeing what was happening and eager to get on the winning side, hastened to make treaties of eternal allegiance which Jake, tired of war, eagerly accepted.

  Within a very short space of time there was only one real ruler in the galaxy and the Pax Merton flowed like a soothing river over once war-harassed worlds.

  There were repercussions.

  Ed Harvey, President of Earth, sat at the head of his council chamber and listened to his Financial Advisor. What he heard wasn’t news but he still didn’t find it agreeable. Neither did he like the buzzing inside his skull. It sounded like a swarm of bees but it wasn’t that. It was the telepathised discontent of the majority of Earth’s population. As President he was the natural target for complaint.

  “Cut it out!” His voice, rusty from long disuse, was still strong. He noticed the shocked expression on the face of his Financial Advisor. “Not you, Joe, all the people out there.” He waved towards a window. “Their non-stop complaining is driving me crazy.”

  “It’s getting us all.” Winton Burks, Treasurer, looked sympathetic. “Better use vocal, Joe, maybe we can drown it out.”

  Engles cleared his throat and resumed his analysis. Harvey heard him out with mounting impatience.

  “Too many men! Too much surplus! What the devil’s wrong with the galaxy?” He slammed his hand down hard on the table. “We must export or die, gentlemen. Export or die!”

  He meant that Earth had to get rid of its surplus production or suffer economic disaster. The only thing Earth could export were equipped mercenaries and, for some reason, no one wanted them.

  “It’s this Merton,” said Engles. “He’s united the warring rulers into a single empire and forced a galactic peace.”

  “So?” Dan Waters, Minister of Labour, was old and inclined to be a little slow.

  “No wars—no mercenaries,” explained Engles. “The old law of supply and demand.”

  “He’s ruining our economy,” snapped Harvey. “Doesn’t he know that?”

  “Maybe he doesn’t care.”

  “He’s got to care!” The President slammed his hand again on the table. “Can you imagine what this boycott is doing to us? It’s ruining us, that’s what. Well, what are we going to do about it?”

  He looked at their blank faces. Burks cleared his throat

  “I don’t see what we can do about it,” he said. “We can’t afford to dump
the material and, even if we could, we can’t demobilise the Guards. Most of them only joined because they were homeless and starving and, if we turn them loose without jobs to go to we’ll have a revolution on our hands.”

  “Engles!”

  Joe looked unhappy. “I don’t know, Ed,” he confessed. “We can’t sell them and, from what Winton says, we can’t dump them. It makes things worse if we keep them and I doubt if we can give them away.” He shook his head. “That seems to about cover it.”

  “Not quite.” Harvey leaned forward over the table. “There’s one thing you left out.” His eyes travelled from face to face. “Can anyone tell me what it is?”

  “You can’t do it.” For once Waters, old though he was, was ahead of the rest.

  “Why not?” Harvey was defiant. “Listen to that noise out there and then tell me if we have any choice.”

  “No.” Waters shook his head. “You can’t do it, Ed, and you know it. It wouldn’t be right.”

  “What wouldn’t be right?” Engles looked bewildered. Harvey snorted his contempt.

  “Let’s not talk of right and wrong,” he said. “Let’s talk of survival because that’s what we’re up against. We’re loaded with equipped mercenaries which nobody wants. As Joe said, we can’t sell them, dump them or give them away. There’s only one thing left. Like it or not we’ve got to use them. If no one wants to fight a war then we’ll have to start one of our own.”

  *

  The war lasted exactly three months. It would have lasted much longer and been much grimmer but for one fact. An entire planet radiating a fixed determination couldn’t hope to keep it a secret. Also, to be fair, Earth had tried every way possible to avoid actual conflict. When, driven by desperation, they boiled from their home grounds Jake was waiting for them.

  Even so it was a near thing. Had he left an enemy free to attack, his empire would have been shattered into fragments. He swore that it would never happen again. When the conflict was over the President of Earth, a broken, pathetic figure, was summoned to the throne room of the great palace of Kund to offer his total surrender.