Destination: Saturn

II

Ajax shook his head decisively. “This EMSA-Saturnian war has nothing to do with the Imperial Kingdom of Ajaxia! Our reign shall be one of peace and plenty for all… providing EMSA leaves me anything to rule. Ajaxia stays just where it is. Oh, I agree to let your scientists study the drive and the weapons and all, but they’ve got to leave my kingdom intact.”

Emily sighed and shook her head despairingly. “Ajax, I don’t know what I’m going to do with you! Look: you’re already in the war, whether you like it or not. Ajaxia is right smack on the front lines, in fact. And the Saturnians have already made one aggressive move against your flacking kingdom—by hoaxing you into thinking your so-called ‘loyal subjects’ were loyal subjects, and not sneaking, treacherous Saturnians in disguise. Now, we’re going to get this settled, Ajax if it takes all night! But we’ve got to have your full permission or we can’t do anything. EMSA has officially recognized you as the government of Ajaxia; our people can’t touch your planetoid-ship without repercussions that would shake the very foundations of Interplanetary Law. You must allow the Treaty to stand as I’ve drafted it: EMSA must move Ajaxia sunwards, and soon—before the Saturnians have recovered from the loss of their fleet and are ready to strike again. And we have to break up the planetoid and take those machines apart! Their potential military value is incalculable, and we have no time to hanky-panky around being careful to leave your precious kingdom intact!”

Ajax drew himself up with a superb gesture and a flawless sneer of regal contempt which he had been practicing before a mirror for days. “Oho!” he said witheringly. “So that’s it, eh? I am to permit my kingdom to be taken from me—I am to stand by while you maroon-clad monkeys break it up for scrap? And where does that leave me? Will the Earth-Mars Space Administration agree to a swap?”

“A… swap? For what?” she demanded suspiciously.

“One kingdom for another. Little Ajaxia with its store of scientific secrets … for some other planetoid whereon I can settle my loyal subjects (when I have recruited some)… Let’s see… how about Vesta? Ceres would be nice. Or maybe Pallas…?”

She gave a little ladylike snort of contempt. “Oh, shut up Ajax, you fool! You want to trade your vest-pocket antique spaceship for one of the largest, wealthiest asteroids in the Solar System, eh? Come off it! You know perfectly well EMSA has no power to make a swap like that. Besides, there are fifty-‘leven interplanetary laws and treaties covering those worlds right now. It would take years of red tape to arrange such a deal. Then again, Vesta, Ceres and Pallas already have considerable populations and legal local governments. It’s no good trying that one, Ajax.”

“Ahem! Pray pardon the intrusion, Sir, and Miss. Dinner will be served shortly.”

They turned to the door where Jenkins, the robutler, stood, his bland countenance beaming obsequiously. One of Earth’s most noted roboticists had designed Jenkins inside and out to reflect the appearance and obedience-patterns of a typical butler from Queen Victoria’s golden reign.

“Oh, bother!” Ajax snapped pettishly. “We’ve been jawing on forever, and I wanted to get in a spot of hunting before sitting down to table!”

“Hunting?” Emily repeated incredulously. “With the fate of the System hanging in the balance?”

“Certainly, hunting,” he said, nonchalantly (he had practiced that, too). “Why do you think I built this hunting lodge up here in the middle of the great Canadian wilderness? Perfect hunting country. And as a royal sport, it goes back to the days of Nimrod. King Edward VII was a famous hunter. Napoleon himself…”

She shrugged. “Oh, all right! Forget the genealogies. If you want to call this gigantic Grand Hotel of yours a hunting lodge, it’s perfectly all right with me, Ajax Calkins! And if you want to go hunting, there’s a big fat moose out there that’s been watching us for half an hour…”

Ajax Jumped. “What? Is that moose still hanging around here? Why, he’s been nosing around the property for days! If he gets to moosing around in my begonias… Jenkins!”

“Yes, sir?”

“My elephant gun. I’m going to shoot a moose.”

There was a long moment of silence. The benign expression carved on Jenkins’ face did not, of course, change, but you sensed a certain question in the air.

With great dignity, Ajax said carefully, “I don’t have a moose gun, you know.”

Jenkins nodded deferentially. “Very good, sir.” He vanished through the door.

Emily regarded him doubtfully. “Ajax… you’re really going to kill the poor little thing?”

He snorted with fine masculine contempt for typical feminine daintiness. “I certainly am! Surely a monarch has the royal right to protect his begonias from bestial molestation. I’ll show you what good hunters we kings are! Jenkins? Step on the jets with that elephant gun, before the beggar ambles off somewhere into the tundra!”

“Here you are, sir.” Jenkins reappeared, holding a 21st Century needle-beam laser rifle, custom-fitted to resemble an antique African safari-gun out of the days of Allan Quatermain. Hefting it with manly anticipation, Ajax strode out onto the porch, followed by Emily.

“Hah! The great hulking beast hasn’t even got the sense to move along when a hunter hoves into view! Gad, Emily—what a triumph! To cut down a moose right on one’s own veranda! What a trophy!” He leveled the elephant gun; allowing the robot sighting-mechanism to adjust the aiming mechanism automatically. Then a small light flashed amid the scrollwork of curlicues with which the stock was adorned. Ready to fire…

“Oh, Ajax… couldn’t you just shoo him away, or something?”

He fired.

Now moose are not noted for any razor-keen intellect; but this particular moose displayed not only a very un-moose-like curiosity about the doings of humans, but also an incredibly agile instinct for self-preservation. It had been gazing at the two people on the veranda quite intently. As Ajax lifted the rifle to his shoulder, something inside the animal seemed to snap alert. Its eyes dilated with an expression distinctly un-mooselike, and it dodged to one side with a fantastic blur of speed…

But not fast enough to frustrate the radar-guided, computer-linked aiming mechanism with which this rifle had been fitted out. The dazzling needle-beam of ruby fire slashed directly through the central region of the moose.

Its reaction to this was even more un-mooselike.

It exploded with an eye-searing flash of green flame and a clap of thunder that shook the evergreens!

When the smoke had cleared away; Ajax and Emily stood open-mouthed and spellbound.

Emily said firmly, “That was no moose!”

It was the most accurate statement of the day thus far. Ajax closed his mouth, gulped, and agreed in a shaky voice.

“Let’s get over there and take a look at the remains,” Emily suggested.

“Righto!”

Within moments the two, astride a low-flying ground-skimmer, had whistled across the shore and the rows of evergreens that bordered the estate and arrived at the scene of the explosion.

The moose had been a moose only to the unaided eye, as a quick glance at the corpse proved. It was a hollow shell of a moose, in fact, stuffed with machinery. And for the pilot of this weird contraption, they found a now-quiescent mass of what looked like a poor grade of lime gelatine swiftly melting away.

“A… Saturnian,” Ajax said dumbly. He exchanged a long look with the equally flabbergasted Miss Hackenschmidt. And he was right. Over the decomposing Amoeba-Man, they looked at each other with a wild surmise.

The interplanetary war had not waited on Ajax’s royal decision; it had landed smack on his front doorstep.