this, to the Chief Discriminator; by this, to the Hall of Cantons; by this, to the Office of Petitions. My voice is disguised by a filtering device."
"What if I were to speak?" asked Etzwane. "Would anyone know the difference?"
Sajarano winced. His eyes were dull with pain. "No one would know: Do you plan to become Anome?"
"I have no such inclination," said Etzwane.
"In effect this is the case. I refuse all further responsibility."
"How do you answer the petitions?"
"This was Garstang's job. I regularly checked his decisions on the display board. Occasionally he found it necessary to consult; not often."
"When you use the radio, what is your routine? What do you say?"
"It is very simple. I say: 'The Anome instructs that such an act be accomplished/ That is the end of it."
"Very good. Call now the Office of Proclamations, and all the rest. This is what you must say:
'In response to the depredations of the Roguskhoi I proclaim a state of emergency. Shant must now mobilize its strength against these creatures and destroy them!"
Sajarano shook his head. "I cannot say that; you must do so yourself." He seemed disoriented. His hands twitched; his eyes jerked from side to side, his skin showed an ugly yellowish tint.
"Why can't you say it?" asked Etzwane.
"It is contrary to my inner soul. I cannot participate in your venture. It means chaos!"
"If we don't destroy the Roguskhoi it means no more Shant, which is worse," Etzwane said. "Show me how to use the radio."
Sajarano's mouth trembled; for a moment Etzwane thought that he would refuse. Then he said, "Push that switch. Turn the green knob until the green light glows. Push the button of the agency you choose to call. Press the purple button to signal the monitor. When the purple light flashes, speak."
Etzwane approached the bench; Sajarano drew back a few steps. Etzwane pretended to study the equipment. Sajarano darted for the door, passed through, swung it shut. Etzwane hurled himself into the opening; the two struggled. Etzwane was young and strong; Sajarano thrust with hysterical frenzy. Their two heads, on opposite sides of the opening, were only inches apart. Sajarano's eyes bulged, his mouth hung open. His feet slipped, the door swung back.
Etzwane said politely, "Who lives here beside yourself?"
"Only my staff," muttered Sajarano.
"The radio can wait," said Etzwane. "First I must deal with you."
Sajarano stood with sagging shoulders. Etzwane said, "Come. Leave these doors open. I want you to instruct your staff that I and my friends will be taking up residence here."
Sajarano gave a fatalistic sigh. "What are your plans for me?"
"If you cooperate, your life is your own."
"I will do my best," said Sajarano, in the voice of-an old man. "I must try, I must try. . . . I will call Aganthe, my major-domo. How many persons will be coming? I live a solitary life."
"I'll have to take counsel with them.'
Chapter 2
Sajarano lay drugged in his bedchamber; Etzwane stood in the hall. What to do with the corpse? He did not know. Unwise to order the servants to remove it. Let it stay then, until he had organized matters. . .. Lovely Jurjin! What a waste of beauty and vitality! He could summon no more fury against Sajarano; such emotion seemed stale. Sajarano clearly was insane.
Now: the proclamation. Etzwane returned to the radio room, where he wrote what he considered a succinct and emphatic message. Then he manipulated the array of dials and buttons as Sajarano had instructed. He first signaled the Office of Proclamations.
The purple light flashed.
Etzwane spoke. "The Anome orders dissemination throughout Shant of the following proclamation:
"In response to the dangerous presence of the Roguskhoi in our midst, the Anome proclaims a state of emergency, effective immediately.
"For several years the Anome has attempted to deal with the invaders on the basis of peaceful persuasion. These efforts have failed; we now must act with the total force of our nation; the
"What if I were to speak?" asked Etzwane. "Would anyone know the difference?"
Sajarano winced. His eyes were dull with pain. "No one would know: Do you plan to become Anome?"
"I have no such inclination," said Etzwane.
"In effect this is the case. I refuse all further responsibility."
"How do you answer the petitions?"
"This was Garstang's job. I regularly checked his decisions on the display board. Occasionally he found it necessary to consult; not often."
"When you use the radio, what is your routine? What do you say?"
"It is very simple. I say: 'The Anome instructs that such an act be accomplished/ That is the end of it."
"Very good. Call now the Office of Proclamations, and all the rest. This is what you must say:
'In response to the depredations of the Roguskhoi I proclaim a state of emergency. Shant must now mobilize its strength against these creatures and destroy them!"
Sajarano shook his head. "I cannot say that; you must do so yourself." He seemed disoriented. His hands twitched; his eyes jerked from side to side, his skin showed an ugly yellowish tint.
"Why can't you say it?" asked Etzwane.
"It is contrary to my inner soul. I cannot participate in your venture. It means chaos!"
"If we don't destroy the Roguskhoi it means no more Shant, which is worse," Etzwane said. "Show me how to use the radio."
Sajarano's mouth trembled; for a moment Etzwane thought that he would refuse. Then he said, "Push that switch. Turn the green knob until the green light glows. Push the button of the agency you choose to call. Press the purple button to signal the monitor. When the purple light flashes, speak."
Etzwane approached the bench; Sajarano drew back a few steps. Etzwane pretended to study the equipment. Sajarano darted for the door, passed through, swung it shut. Etzwane hurled himself into the opening; the two struggled. Etzwane was young and strong; Sajarano thrust with hysterical frenzy. Their two heads, on opposite sides of the opening, were only inches apart. Sajarano's eyes bulged, his mouth hung open. His feet slipped, the door swung back.
Etzwane said politely, "Who lives here beside yourself?"
"Only my staff," muttered Sajarano.
"The radio can wait," said Etzwane. "First I must deal with you."
Sajarano stood with sagging shoulders. Etzwane said, "Come. Leave these doors open. I want you to instruct your staff that I and my friends will be taking up residence here."
Sajarano gave a fatalistic sigh. "What are your plans for me?"
"If you cooperate, your life is your own."
"I will do my best," said Sajarano, in the voice of-an old man. "I must try, I must try. . . . I will call Aganthe, my major-domo. How many persons will be coming? I live a solitary life."
"I'll have to take counsel with them.'
Chapter 2
Sajarano lay drugged in his bedchamber; Etzwane stood in the hall. What to do with the corpse? He did not know. Unwise to order the servants to remove it. Let it stay then, until he had organized matters. . .. Lovely Jurjin! What a waste of beauty and vitality! He could summon no more fury against Sajarano; such emotion seemed stale. Sajarano clearly was insane.
Now: the proclamation. Etzwane returned to the radio room, where he wrote what he considered a succinct and emphatic message. Then he manipulated the array of dials and buttons as Sajarano had instructed. He first signaled the Office of Proclamations.
The purple light flashed.
Etzwane spoke. "The Anome orders dissemination throughout Shant of the following proclamation:
"In response to the dangerous presence of the Roguskhoi in our midst, the Anome proclaims a state of emergency, effective immediately.
"For several years the Anome has attempted to deal with the invaders on the basis of peaceful persuasion. These efforts have failed; we now must act with the total force of our nation; the
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