Asodo Hatch ventured out of the Combat College with the
intent of spreading the news of the opening of the Chasm Gates,
but found there was no need for him to take any steps in that
direction. In a city at peace, the news of the opening of the
Chasm Gates might have taken a while to spread. But Dalar ken
Halvar was a city poised for war, its leadership of the moment in
nerve-edge readiness for trouble, its sentries posted, its
couriers running messages routinely through the streets, its
people acutely tuned to the faintest rumblings of the rumor-mill.
        Consequently, the news of the reopening of the Chasm Gates
struck with something of the swift-shock speed of news breaking in
a high-tech inter-wired society. And Hatch very shortly returned
to the Combat College to participate in a conference in Forum
Three.
        Given some of the murderous passions which were then
unleashed, Hatch had cause to be very glad that the three people
closest to his heart were safe in the illusion tanks, seated in
the combat bays and walled in by unbreachable walls of
kaleidoscope. Most murderously passionate of all people on that
day was Lupus Lon Oliver.
        When Lupus heard that Hatch was to be the Nexus-appointed
ruler of Dalar ken Halvar, he was incensed. And when Lupus heard
that the Nu-chala, the religious leader based on the holy planet
of Borboth, had additionally appointed Hatch to be his deputy in
Dalar ken Halvar, then Lupus was so enraged that he almost
suffered a terminal melt-down.
        "Nu-chala-nuth!" said Lupus, using that word as an obscenity.
"Are we to set the Yara free to rabble in their superstitions?"
        "Twenty thousand years have not extinguished the power of the
Nu-chala-nuth in the Nexus," said Hatch. "If we prosecute a pogrom
against the Yara here in Dalar ken Halvar, then we will make
problems for ourselves and for the whole of the Nexus. The Yara
must be free to worship the Way if they so choose."
        So spoke Hatch, though the pogrom he feared was not a killing
of the Yara but a killing of the Frangoni.
        Lupus knew as much.
        "You have the whip-hand for the moment," said Lupus, in
momentary concession, "but don't think you can keep it forever."
        That of course was not the end of Lupus Lon Oliver's dissent.
When Startroopers and Combat Cadets - past and present -
were packed into Forum Three and queued in the corridors outside,
then Lupus made a strident effort to denounce and dethrone Asodo
Hatch. Hatch was a barbarian, a murderer, a cheat, a fraud, a
shyster. He was the son of a suicide. All this said Lupus, and
more. But he was brought to order very quickly by General Dorth.
        In Forum Three, the general gazed down on Lupus from the main
display screen and said:
        "Halt! Stop right there! I've heard enough out of you! I am
General Dorth of the Nexus and I will not stand for this mutinous
talk!"
        The figure shown on the display screen, the putative General
Dorth, was a big man in a uniform of gray trimmed with silver.
Whereas Paraban Senk had perfect voice control, General Dorth had
to struggle from keeping his wrath from breaking into an upper-
octave squawk. Hatch thought this was a nice touch of
verisimilitude.
        "Right now I am speaking by Instantaneous Transmission from
Charabanc," said General Dorth. "But in ninety days, when
quarantine ends, I will personally be coming to Olo Malan to take
control of the planet. At that time I will be relieving Asodo
Hatch, and if you fail to give him all due assistance in the
meantime then you will personally answer to me for your
delinquencies. Do you understand?"
        "Yes," said Lupus. "Yes - yes sir."
        Lupus had the shaken aspect of a small child whose playtime
games have abruptly been interrupted by the encroachments of full-
grown adults. The Ebrell Islander could not help but display a
touch of fear, and this to Hatch confirmed the fact that Lupus was
a True Believer. He believed the truth of this scenario
absolutely.
        "So I confirm the appointment of Asodo Hatch as military
governor of - of Dara - " Here Dorth broke off, glanced down, as
if at a prompt screen hidden out of sight, then got it out and got
it right: "Of Dalar ken Halvar."
        "It is a great honor," said Hatch stolidly, letting his
rivals interpret that stolidness as they might.
        "This is only a temporary measure," said General Dorth. "But
the fact is that Asodo Hatch is the most senior officer of the
Stormforce currently on Olo Malan. As for the rest of you, all
Combat Cadets and Startroopers, past and present, you are all to
present yourself for a midnight briefing in the Combat College -
tonight. Meantime, here is a brief update of what has happened in
the Nexus in the last twenty millennia | | "
        By the time General Dorth was finished, Lupus Lon Oliver
looked positively shellshocked, as well he might. But he was
persuaded. The other Free Corps veterans were similarly persuaded.
And so it was that Asodo Hatch left Forum Three with half a hundred
troopers of the Free Corps as his guard of honor. They filtered
out through the lockway airlock, formed up in the kinema under the
gaze of the Eye of Delusions, then set off down Scuffling Road.
        Bodyguarding Asodo Hatch, the Free Corps troopers marched
through Actus Dorum, marched past the Grand Arena, scaled the
heights of Cap Ogo Blotch, and entered the palace of Na Sashimoko.
There in Hall in the heart of the Shrine of Shrines, Asodo
Hatch seated himself upon the throne of the Empire of Greater
Parengarenga, and declared himself emperor.
        "The official title is, of course, military governor," said
Hatch. "And I have no objection if members of the Free Corps and
others choose to so call me. However, we must remember that the
vast mass of the population of Parengarenga consists of ignorant
peasants who know nothing of the Nexus, therefore it is fitting
that I choose a title which fits their limited conception of the
world."
        "What now?" said Lupus.
        "I have much to do before I join you in the Combat College
for the midnight briefing," said Hatch. "The first thing is the
Treasurer. Berlin, that's the one. I appoint him my deputy. Bring
him here."
        "But he's one of these - one of these savages!" protested
Lupus. "Your deputy, it - it should be a Free Corps appointment."
        "The Free Corps has the whole planet to think about," said
Hatch. "The Free Corps are few and the needs of the moment are
many. We can't have talented trained men wasting themselves on
sorting out the petty bureaucracy of Dalar ken Halvar. Berlin's
the man for that. He's not exactly my favorite person, but we can
work together, at least in the short term. Lupus, it's hardly an
appointment made to gratify my own heart, is it?"
        That ended that argument, for it was common knowledge that
Asodo Hatch did indeed have good reason to hate Nambasa Berlin,
the noseless Treasurer who had ever maintained a gross prejudice
against the "purple filth" of the Frangoni rock - which prejudice
was consequent upon the circumstances surrounding the loss of his
nose.
        Nambasa Berlin was brought from the closely-watched
imprisonment in which he had been kept since being overthrown by a
coup launched by Imperial Guards and Free Corps troopers. Berlin
was briefed, and absorbed the news of the opening of the Chasm
Gates with an uncommon degree of calm. But then - Berlin had been
expecting to be executed, and in the face of death all lesser
shocks lose their power to disconcert.
        Thus it was that Hatch seized control, bloodlessly, and
worked throughout the day to consolidate that control. He sought
out people like Berlin who were competent, who were accustomed to
the exercise of power, who knew their jobs and who were not
aligned with the Free Corps. These Hatch placed in positions of
trust, so by evening he had a skeleton administration in place.
        Late at night, when he was sure that almost all the Free
Corps people were safe within the Combat College - and soon to be
sealed into that College and held there as prisoners - Asodo Hatch
presided over a meeting of selected Frangoni in the palace of Na
Sashimoko.
        The meeting took place in Na Sashimoko's map room, where
there was a big table on which it was possible to assemble large-
scale maps showing (or at least purporting to show) the geography
of the entire empire. As wizards have a great love of maps, and as
the Silver Emperor known to the world as Plandruk Qinplaqus had
been a wizard of Ebber (and was a wizard of Ebber still, assuming
that he still lived), a great deal of love had been spent on the
elaborations of this map room. It had leather-upholstered seats
sufficient for all the Frangoni who came to sit at that big table.
Hatch's elder brother Oboro Bakendra was at that
meeting.
        So was Son'sholoma Gezira, the apostate Frangoni who had once
offended Hatch by accosting him on the Frangoni rock, and by
asking him to assist in teaching the doctrines of Nu-chala-nuth.
Hatch at the time had been shocked. Hatch had thought the
preaching of the doctrines of Nu-chala-nuth would be a disaster
for his city, his people and the empire he served. But here he
was! Asodo Hatch! Masquerading as the deputy of the Nu-chala of
Borboth! Here he was, Asodo Hatch, seeking to secure the city of
Dalar ken Halvar for the Nu-chala-nuth, to unleash the forces of
an intolerant militant religion, and to use that religion as a
weapon against his enemies.
        And, as Hatch waited for the Frangoni at the meeting to
settle to order, he found himself appalled at the future which was
opening in front of him. But what else could he do? Surrender
Dalar ken Halvar to Lupus Lon Oliver and the Free Corps? Let
Manfred Gan Oliver and his son Lupus gather the strength they
needed to launch a pogrom against the Frangoni?
        "Well?" said Oboro Bakendra, looking hard at his younger
brother. "Are you ready to enlighten us? To tell us what's really
going on here?"
        "Ah, what do you think's going on here?" said Hatch.
        "I don't know," said Oboro Bakendra. "But the very fact that
this meeting is taking place suggests something foul afoot. You
and me, what have we got to say to each other? You need something
from me, brother, but I can't see that you'd need anything at all
from me if the Chasm Gates really had opened. If the Nexus really
had reclaimed us. If you had suddenly been bounced to sainthood, a
saint beloved of the Nu, a saint in his purple graces - well, is a
poor and barbarous Frangoni worshipper of the Great God Mokaragash
to sit at table with the Nu-chala's deputy?"
        Hatch forced himself not to flinch from the whiplash in his
brother's voice.
        "Brother mine," said Hatch, "I had to make a choice. The
Frangoni under the Nu-chala-nuth or the Frangoni under the Free
Corps. There was no third way."
        With that said, Hatch looked around at the assembled
Frangoni. Some were slow on the uptake, but it was obvious that
most were absorbing the implications of his words.
        "So," said Son'sholoma slowly, "you've - you've - what have
you done, Hatch? You've schemed up - well, Senk must be in on it.
And the whole thing, this - this - it's a charade, is it? The
Chasm Gates, the - oh, Hatch, I really believed! How could you -
this whole - is this but a ploy to win a war with the Free Corps?"
        "I have at stake the lives of my people," said Hatch
stolidly. "All of my people, not excepting my wife and my
daughter."
        Then Hatch detailed the truth of their situation for his
fellow Frangoni, ending by saying:
        "So, it being now about midnight, the Free Corps is held
prisoner by Paraban Senk. Senk will hold the Free Corps for long
enough for me to consolidate my rule in Dalar ken Halvar. I will
consolidate that rule by uniting the city under the banner of Nu-
chala-nuth."
        "That," said his brother Oboro Bakendra, "still leaves the
fate of the Frangoni undecided."
        "I will give my people what protection I can," said Hatch.
"But if we are to unite Dalar ken Halvar as a city of the Nu-
chala-nuth, then it follows that the Frangoni must necessarily
take that religion as their own."
        "I'd rather die," said Oboro Bakendra.
        "Then you will die," said Hatch flatly. And, as his brother
half-rose from the table: "And if you kill me here, then you and
all Frangoni will die of a certainty. The Yara are using the night
to arm themselves against any possible change in their political
fortunes. The Unreal are organizing themselves, my brother. I am
their head for the moment, but whether I can remain so is
something that remains to be seen."
        Oboro Bakendra seated himself, but glowered, and said:
"You really are riding a tiger. What happens if you fall off?
You persuaded Paraban Senk to your cause. But what if Lupus Lon
Oliver unpersuades him? What you have done against Lupus, Lupus
can do against you. You tell me that Senk won't let out the Free
Corps troopers until they're ready to swear their loyalty to you,
but who could trust oaths given under such duress? And as for the
Frangoni, our own people - how long will we last? The Yara hate
us, the Yara are of the Pang, the Pang are the Pang, Real and
Unreal alike, they're one people and we're another. Once this
Chasm Gate illusion is a thing of the past, Hatch, the Pang will
push you off your throne in a few days or less, they're the
majority, they'll want one of their own to rule."
        All this said Oboro Bakendra, and more. Hatch listened, then
said, heavily:
        "Everything you have said is true. The Frangoni are a
minority. At the moment I rule by illusion, but we will need more
than that in the future. I cannot trust the Free Corps so I must
destroy the Free Corps. The Pang have no reason to like or trust
the Frangoni, so we must give them a reason. We must destroy the
Free Corps in the name of Nu-chala-nuth. We the Frangoni."
        "Nu-chala-nuth!" said Oboro Bakendra.
He used the word just as Lupus Lon Oliver had used it earlier
- as an obscenity.
        "By so destroying the Free Corps," said Hatch, pursuing the
ruthless logic of his politics to its conclusion, "we the Frangoni
write ourselves into the religious history of this planet. We the
Frangoni become the people who destroyed the enemies of Nu-chala-
nuth at a time when that religion was weak.
        "We.
        "Not the Pang.
        "The people Pang, the Yara, the Unreal, they made a
revolution in the name of Nu-chala-nuth, but they failed, they
failed absolutely. They failed the god to whom they gave nothing
but a fleeting lipservice backed up by no more than a transitory
spasm of rioting. But we, we the Frangoni, we through our armed
discipline smash the enemies of Nu-chala-nuth, install the True
God, and thus write ourselves into history forever. We write
ourselves into history in blood."
        So spoke Asodo Hatch, giving way to that love of rhetoric and
speeches which ever characterizes the Frangoni. Then Asodo Hatch
looked on his brother Oboro Bakendra and said:
        "Brother mine, we the Frangoni, in Dalar ken Halvar our fate
is fragile. We are few, the Pang are many. We are not of this
place, we are not of this city. We must consecrate our
relationship with the Pang with the blood of battle. We must write
ourselves into the holy history of Nu-chala-nuth to make our
people inviolate. We must become the holy ones, the beloved of
god, or else - well, you were the one who said it. Unless we can
secure our position, our fate is to be destroyed. Make your
choice, my brother."
        Oboro Bakendra sat. Glowering. He saw the dreadful necessity
of choice which was upon them. But. He had made his commitments to
the Great God Mokaragash. He had made his commitments to the
priesthood. He had won status there - of a kind. A position there
- of a kind. A place there - of a kind. If he threw in his lot
with the Nu-chala-nuth, then he would have to give up that
position, that place, that status.
        Still, he had made such a change once. Three years earlier,
Oboro Bakendra had left the Combat College, automatically excluded
from its corridors when he reached the end of his years of
training. At first he had been very despondent, but then he had
got religion, and had found in religion a consolation for what he
had lost.
        Which raised an obvious question. Oboro Bakendra had known
for years that his life in the Combat College would automatically
end when he was 34 years of age. So why hadn't he started laying
the groundwork of an alternative career earlier? Paraban Senk, the
Teacher of Control who ruled the Combat College, thought for some
bizarre reason that Asodo Hatch had murdered Hiji Hanojo, the
previous Combat College instructor.
        Asodo Hatch had been possessed of motive.
        But Oboro Bakendra, on the verge of being exiled from the
Combat College, had been possessed of a much stronger motive.
Oboro would have stood a good chance of winning the instructorship
had not Senk postponed the examinations for three years.
And ....
        "The Great God Mokaragash is my life," said Oboro Bakendra.
        "Is that so?" said Hatch, choosing his words with care. "If
religion is your life, is it also to be your death? There was a
man, once. Lamjuk Dakoto."
        "That man has nothing to do with me," said Oboro, who had
long ago renounced his father.
        Lamjuk Dakoto Hatch, father of Asodo and Oboro, had killed
himself on the sands of the Season. Lamjuk Dakoto had killed his
own brother in gladiatorial combat. With the killing done, Lamjuk
Dakoto had fallen upon his own sword in full view of Dalar ken
Halvar.
        "Our father, hence our fate," said Hatch remorselessly. "For
what is the son if not the reflection of the father?"
        "He renounced his religion," said Oboro. "He renounced his
people, his god."
        It was true. Lamjuk Dakoto had turned away from the Frangoni
faith, the worship of the Great God Mokaragash. A bitter dispute
over this renunciation had led to Lamjuk Dakoto fighting and
killing his own brother.
        "He remains our father," said Hatch.
        "He's dead, Hatch," said Oboro, speaking with a wrench-note
of agony, of grief.
        So the son who had spurned the father still mourned him.
Oboro was racked by concealed grief - grief unreconciled. Tears
unwept. Laments deep-stocked in silence.
        "He's dead, yes, dead," said Hatch. "And you as his son will
die for the same reason, because death is your choice."
        "If I must die," said Oboro, "then I die for my god and my
people."
        "It is the common wisdom of all who study such matters," said
Hatch, "that any man who kills himself hands a sharp sword to his
son. If you die, then you die because your father killed himself.
And for no better reason."
        "My god," said Oboro. "My people."
        "Then what," said Hatch, flaring, "what was your god to you
when you murdered Hiji Hanojo? Your people, what, you killed him
good, you killed him clean, you murdered because you wanted the
Nexus, you wanted to stay!"
        There.
        It was out.
        Hatch had accused his brother Oboro Bakendra of killing Hiji
Hanojo to open up a chance of winning the instructorship.
        Oboro breathed slowly.
        Breathed deeply.
        Then said:
        "Are you accusing me of murder?"
        "It is Paraban Senk who accuses you," said Hatch coldly.
"Yesterday I was victorious in battle. I won the instructorship.
My first move was to consult all those files which had till then
been hidden from view. Naturally I wanted to know who had killed
Hiji Hanojo."
        "So Senk says ...."
        "You should have been able to work it out for yourself," said
Hatch, riding the dynamic of his bluff, taking it through to its
logical conclusion. "Paraban Senk knew full well that you murdered
Hiji Hanojo. You had motive. Means. Opportunity. I saw your
psychological profile, there's no secrets hidden. So. Senk decided
to punish you.
        "So.
        "Senk denied you the chance to compete for the
instructorship. Senk declared a three-year moratorium on the
competitive examinations. Because. Because Senk knew. Senk knew
that I would win. And Senk knew. Senk knew that would be the
greatest punishment. For you to see your younger brother succeed
where you failed.
        "And that's why you chose your god, your Great God
Mokaragash, because you wanted a career, power, status, position,
something to replace the Combat College. And that's why you, you
wanted me to leave, no more College, no, come to the Great God,
little brother, you wanted to wreck me down, you were jealous, you
saw I'd win, you couldn't stand it, as soon as you were out of the
College you wanted my training wrecked and ruined.
        "So.
        "So that's how it is, Oboro, and if you, death, if it's
death, if you're going to die then it's because that's what you
want, your father handed you a sword, spite and jealousy, jealousy
and thwarted ambition. That's all there is, Oboro. Well. Make your
choice. Stand by your Great God and die. But know why you die. Not
from piety but from selfish spite. Your Great God is a sword. If
you want to fall upon that sword, then do so. But I - I will not
die just because my father killed himself!"
        Thus Hatch.
        Then silence.
        Then, very slowly, Oboro Bakendra's face buckled. His
shoulders began to shake, and he wept. Hatch watched him, watched
him weep. Then went to his brother's side and comforted him in the
agony of his grief.