Transcriber's Note:
This etext was produced from Planet Stories March 1951. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.
Vyrtl weighed a pebble in his hand. "You expect to beexecuted," he stated flatly.
the envoy, Her
by H. B. Fyfe
The Emperor must be getting old, they thought, to deal somercifully with the upstart Jursan Rebels—which was quitetrue. He was not too young to dream....
espite the concentrated patrol defenses, the Emperor's space yachtslipped down to the surface of Klo, second moon of Jursa, withoutincident. Only recently, such a show of force would have drawn aflight of torpedo rockets from the rebellious planet; but the Jursanagitators for a scientific renaissance had at last been beaten totheir knees.
A landing tube was connected between the ship and the transparent domethat had been constructed on this airless satellite for theconvenience of the lord of the system. Notables in military posts orpresent on some other excuse gathered to greet their master.
"By Pollux!" gasped one onlooker. "Those guards must all be seven feettall!"
The file of magnificent soldiers, who gave the impression of beingalmost entirely armor-plated, deployed on either side of the landingtube exit. They were followed by a figure glittering enough to be anemperor; but since he was attended by only four officials in bejeweledscarlet the crowd recognized him for a chamberlain.
"His Illustrious Sublimity the Lord Vyrtl, Viceroy for Terra, Emperorof Pollux, and of all its fourteen planets, and of all theirthirty-seven satellites, and of all the nations thereon, Co-ordinatorof the planet Hebryxid—"
It went on at some length, but the man who led the next little paradeout of the landing tube paid no heed. The part about Terra was avestige of centuries before communications had lapsed, and served nopurpose but to remind him that new contact with the original planetwas one of the Jursans' aims. The rest of his titles he could, by now,recite backwards.
The crowd of officialdom gaped at him as he stood there. He was a tallman, which conveniently helped conceal a tendency toward obesity.Under the excess tissue, his face had a massive strength, with broadbones and jutting chin and nose; but the gray eyes were weary andcynical.
"Wilkins!" he ordered in a bored monotone. "Find which yokel is incharge, and burn a jet under him!"
resplendent aide hustled forward to where the official in charge ofthe dome was wetting his lips over his rehearsed greeting. It wasquickly made plain that His Illustrious Sublimity desiredtransportation and a look at the quarters he would have to put up withuntil the