ships against us in a mass,
but we shook them like a rattle
and we crammed them—
"Hi, there! Stop that!"
The song died, slowly and stubbornly, the men stood where they were and hands clenched into hard-knuckled fists. Someone shouted an obscenity.
The Terran sergeant was very young, and he felt unsure before those steady, hating eyes. He lifted his voice all the louder: "That will be enough of that. Any more and I'll run you all in for lèse majesté. Haven't you drunken bums anything better to do than sit around swilling beer?"
A big Ansan smith laughed with calculated raucousness.
The sergeant looked around, trying to ignore him. "I'm here for Captain Donovan—Earl Basil, if you prefer. They said he'd be here. I've got an Imperial summons for him."
The noble stretched out a hand. "This is he. Let's have that paper."
"It's just the formal order," said the sergeant. "You're to come at once."