"Nothing else?"
"Nothing else."
"They at no time entered the mail ship?"
"All communications were by visiplate. The mail capsule was shot across two miles of empty space and caught by the ship's net."
"Was it vision communication or sound only?"
"Full vision. That's the point. The speaker was described by several as being a young man of 'aristocratic bearing,' whatever that means."
The Autarch's fist clenched slowly. "Really? And no photo-impression was taken of the face? That was a mistake."
"Unfortunately there was no reason for the mail captain to have anticipated the importance of doing so, If any importance exists! Does all this mean anything to you, sir?"
The Autarch did not answer the question. "And this is the message?"
"Exactly. A tremendous message of one word that we were supposed to bring directly to you; a thing we did not do, of course. It might have been a fission capsule, for instance. Men have been killed that way before."
"Yes, and Autarchs too," said the Autarch. "Just the word 'Gillbret.' One word, 'Gillbret.' "
The Autarch maintained his indifferent calm, but a certain lack of certainty was gathering, and he did not like to experience a lack of certainty. He liked nothing which made him aware of limitations. An Autarch should have no limitations, and on Lingane he had none that natural law did not impose.
There had not always been an Autarch. In its earlier days Lingane had been ruled by dynasties of merchant princes. The families who had first established the subplanetary service stations were the aristocrats of the state. They were not rich in land, hence could not compete in social position with the Ranchers and Grangers of the neighboring worlds. But they were rich in negotiable currency and so could buy and sell those same Ranchers and Grangers; and, by way of high finance, they sometimes did.
And Lingane suffered the usual fate of a planet ruled (or misruled) under such circumstances. The balance of power oscillated from one family to another. The various groups alternated in exile. Intrigues and palace revolutions were chronic, so that if the Directorship of Rhodia was the Sector's prime example of stability and orderly development, Lingane was the example of restlessness and disorder. "As fickle as Lingane," people said.
The outcome was inevitable, if one judges by hindsight. As the neighboring planet states consolidated into group states and became powerful, civil struggles on Lingane became increasingly expensive and dangerous to the planet. The general population was quite willing, finally, to barter anything for general calm. So they exchanged a plutocracy for an autocracy, and lost little liberty in the exchange. The power of several was concentrated in one, but that one, frequently enough, was deliberately friendly to the populace he sought to use as a make-weight against the never-reconciled merchants.
Under the Autarchy, Lingane increased its wealth and strength. Even the Tyranni, attacking thirty years earlier at the height of their power, had been fought to a standstill. They had not been defeated, but they had been stopped. The shock, even of that, had been permanent. Not a planet had been conquered by the Tyranni since the year they had attacked Lingane.
Other planets of the Nebular Kingdoms were outright vassals of the Tyranni. Lingane, however, was an Associated State, theoretically the equal "ally" of Tyrann, with its rights guarded by the Articles of Association.
The Autarch was not fooled by the situation. The chauvinistic of the planet might allow themselves the luxury of considering themselves free, but the Autarch knew that the Tyrannian danger had been held at arm's length this past generation. Only that far. No farther.
And now it might be moving in quickly for the final, long-delayed bear hug. Certainly, he had given it the opportunity it was waiting for. The organization he had built up, ineffectual though it was, was sufficient grounds for punitive action of any type the Tyranni might care to undertake. Legally, Lingane would be in the wrong.
Was the cruiser the first reaching out for the final bear hug?
The Autarch said, "Has a guard been placed on that ship?"
"I said they were watched. Two of our freighters"-he smiled one-sidedly, "keep in massometer range."
"Well, what do you make of it?"
"I don't know. The only Gillbret I know whose name by itself would mean anything is Gillbret oth Hinriad of Rhodia. Have you had dealings with him?"
The Autarch said, "I saw him on my last visit to Rhodia."
"You told him nothing, of course."
"Of course."
Rizzett's eyes narrowed. "I thought there might have been a certain lack of caution on your part; that the Tyranni had been the recipients of an equal lack of caution on the part of this Gillbret-the Hinriads are notable weaklings these days-and that this now was a device to trap you into final self-betrayal."
"I doubt it. It comes at a queer time, this business. I have been away from Lingane for a year or more. I arrived last week and I shall leave in a matter of days again. A message such as this reaches me just when I am in a position to be reached."
"You don't think it is a coincidence?"
"I don't believe in coincidence. And there is one way in which all this would not be coincidence. I will therefore visit that ship. Alone."
"Impossible, sir." Rizzett was startled. He had a small, uneven scar just above his right temple and it suddenly showed red.
"You forbid me?" asked the Autarch dryly.
And he was Autarch, after all, since Rizzett's face fell, and he said, "As you please, sir."