"A Daniel Come to Judgment"
Short moments ago Stephen Duane had been drinking deep of the heady wine of victory, basking in the radiant sunlight of renascent hope. Now a cold shadow overwhelmed that sunlight; the savor of triumph soured on his lips. He turned slowly to the man standing defiantly captive between Beth and Jon.
"Is this true, von Rath?"
The Nazi met his gaze with belligerent hauteur.
"It is true, Stephen Duane."
"But why? Why did you do it? We were enemies once, I know. But we formed a pact of friendship ... a promise of mutual assistance—"
"Pacts! Promises!" sneered von Rath. "What are these but empty words? Eric von Rath is no fool, mein Leutnant. He knows when a cause is doomed. And if ever a rebellion was foredestined to failure, this one is. Could any but a foolish, vain-glorious Yankee expect this motley, undisciplined army—" His eyes swept the rebel host derisively—"to overcome the magnificent science of the Overlords?
"Nein! It is no victory you have won here today, but a single minor skirmish of a hopeless rebellion. Surely, the Daans, even before they surrendered, sent a message to the Sinnaty garrison. Soon will come—perhaps even now it is on the way—an avenging host to wipe out this pitiful handful of upstarts.
"I, Eric von Rath, am a realist. I acknowledge a master race when I see one. I acknowledge the Overlords as masters of Earth. That is why I liberated Rodrik. That is why, when the Daans retake this place, I shall win a place high in their favor."
Lafferty grated, "Not you, weasel! When the Daans come—if they come—you ain't going to be here to see them. Because—" And he took a swift stride forward, an already crimson blade balanced judicially in his hand.