"Yes, sir."
"At no time are you, or any of the men, to amplify in any single instance,my official report."
"If we are questioned, sir?"
"Then you know nothing."
"Yes, sir."
The interview ended, and fifty minutes later, a lifeboat kicked lightly off the side of the Far Star.
10.
Onum Barr was an old man, too old to be afraid. Since the last disturbances, he had lived alone on the fringes of the land with what books he had saved from the ruins. He had nothing he feared losing, least of all the worn remnant of his life, and so he faced the intruder without cringing.
"Your door was open," the stranger explained.
His accent was clipped and harsh, and Barr did not fail to notice the strange blue-steel hand-weapon at his hip. In the half gloom of the small room, Barr saw the glow of a force-shield surrounding the man.
He said, wearily, "There is no reason to keep it closed. Do you wish anything of me?"
"Yes." The stranger remained standing in the center of the room. He was large, both in height and bulk. "Yours is the only house about here."
"It is a desolate place," agreed Barr, "but there is a town to the east. I can show you the way"."
"In a while. May I sit?"
"If the chairs will hold you," said the old man, gravely. They were old,too. Relics of a better youth.
The stranger said, "My name is Hober Mallow. I come from a far province."
Barr nodded and smiled, "Your tongue convicted you of that long ago. I am Onum Barr of Siwenna ? and once Patrician of the Empire."
"Then this is Siwenna. I had only old maps to guide me."
"They would have to be old, indeed, for star-positions to be misplaced."
Barr sat quite still, while the other"s eyes drifted away into a reverie. He noticed that the nuclear force-shield had vanished from about the man and admitted dryly to himself that his person no longer seemed formidable to strangers ? or even, for good or for evil, to his enemies.
He said, "My house is poor and my resources few. You may share what I have if your stomach can endure black bread and dried corn."
Mallow shook his head, "No, I have eaten, and I can"t stay. All I need are the directions to the center of government."
"That is easily enough done, and poor though I am, deprives me of nothing. Do you mean the capital of the planet, or of the Imperial Sector?"
The younger man"s eyes narrowed, "Aren"t the two identical? Isn"t this Siwenna?"
The old patrician nodded slowly, "Siwenna, yes. But Siwenna is no longer capital of the Normannic Sector. Your old map has misled you after all. The stars may not change even in centuries, but political boundaries are all too fluid."
"That"s too bad. In fact, that"s very bad. Is the new capital far off?"
"It"s on Orsha II. Twenty parsecs off. Your map will direct you. How old is it?"
"A hundred and fifty years."
"That old?"
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