Pop said, "Hilda, I'd be glad to run that errand. Run it twice, in fact, as you don't want to send down what clothes you have until you know that your new clothes fit."

"Jacob, I want you right here, to scrub our backs and sing for us and keep us amused. If that jump suit does not fit, I may appear in a bath towel sarong. But I plan to appear a minute early to make Bertie happy. Do not tell the major that, Zebbie! Officially it is twenty minutes with luck, thirty minutes more likely, could be an hour, Major; you know how women are. Got it all?"

"Roger Wilco. Sharpie, someday they'll hang you."

"They will sentence me to hang but Jacob and you will rescue me. Trot along, dear." Aunt Hilda started to get out. "Stay there, Deety. I'll give you three minutes' warning-two to dry down, one to zip into yourjump suit. Which leaves ten minutes to relax."

The jump suit did fit; the Hillbilly looked cute. We left not a thing in that suite because Aunt Hilda checked it while waiting for Zebadiah. A few items went into my purse or hers. It was eighteen minutes from her message to our arrival at the Governor's office-and I had had a fifteen-minute tub, comfy if not sybaritic.

Besides Bertie and the Brigadier, that fathead Moresby was there. Aunt Hilda ignored him, so I did. Bertie stood up. "How smart you all look! Did you have a pleasant day?" The poor dear looked dreadful-gaunt, circles under his eyes.

"A perfect day-thanks to you, thanks to the Brigadier, and thanks to a curly lamb named Bean."

"A fine lad," Squeaky boomed. "I'll pass on your word, if I may." The Brigadier did not look fresh; I decided that neither had been to bed.

Bertie waited until we were seated, then got to business. "Captain Burroughs, what are your plans?"

Aunt Hilda did not answer his question. She glanced toward Major General Moresby, back at Bertie. "We are not in private, Excellency."

"Hmm-" Bertie looked unhappy. "Moresby, you are excused."

"But-"

"Dismissed. You have work to do, I feel sure."

Moresby swelled up but got up and left. Squeaky bolted the outer door, closed the inner door, while Bertie stood up to lift the rug over his recorder switch. Aunt Hilda said, "Don't bother, Bertie. Record if you need to. What's the trouble, old dear? Russians?"

"Yes. Hilda, you four are refugees; yesterday you showed me why. Would you care to remain here? My delegated power is sufficient that I can grant naturalization as fast as I can sign my signature."

"No, Bertie. But we feel greatly honored."

"I expected that. Do reconsider it. There are advantages to being a subject of the most powerful monarch in history, in being protected by a flag on which the Sun never sets."

"No, Bertie."

"Captain Hilda, I need you and your ship. Because of millions of miles of distance, many months required for a message, I hold dejure viceregal power almost equal to sovereign... and de facto greater in emergency because no Parliament is here. I can recruit foreign troops, arm them, make guarantees to them as if they were British, award the King-Emperor's commission. I would like to recruit all of you and your ship."

"Commodore for you, Captain for your second-in-command, Commander for your Chief Pilot, Lieutenant Commander for your Copilot. Retirement at full pay once the emergency is over. Return of your purchased ship as a royal gift after the emergency. Compensation for loss or damage."

"One rank higher for each of you?"

"All four of us must be at least one rank senior to Major General Moresby."

"Hilda! That's my own rank. Equivalent rank-Vice Admiral."

"Bertie, you can't hire us as mercenaries at any rank or pay. That hyperbole was to tell you that we will not place ourselves under your chief of staff. That settled, what can we do to help you?"

"I'm afraid you can't, since you won't accept the protection under international law of military status. So I'm forced to cut the knot. Do you understand the right of angary?"

(I thought he said "angry" and wondered.)

"I believe so. Are Great Britain and the Russias at war?"

"No, but there are nuances. Shall I call in my legal officer?"

"Not for me. My own legal officer is here: Doctor Zebadiah Carter, my consultant in international law."

"Doctor Carter-oh, fiddlesticks! My friend Zeb. Zeb, will you discuss the right of angary?"

"Very well, Governor. One nuance you had in mind was that, in addition to wartime, it applies to national emergency-such as your current one with the Russians."

"Yes!"

"Angary has changed in application many times but in general it is the right of a sovereign power to seize neutral transport found in its ports or territory, then use same in war or similar emergency. When the emergency is over, seized transport must be returned, fair rentals must be paid, loss or damage requires compensation. It does not apply to goods or chattels, and most especially not to persons. That's the gist. Do we need your legal officer?"

"I don't think so. Captain Burroughs?"

"We don't need him. You intend to requisition my craft?"

"Captain... I must!" Bertie was almost in tears.

"Governor, you are within your legal rights. But have you considered how you will drive it?"

"May I answer that, Governor?"

"Go ahead, Squeaky."

"Captain Hilda, I have an odd memory. 'Photographic' it is called but I remember sounds as automatically. I am sure I can fly every maneuver used last night-that is to say: sufficient for our emergency."

I was seething. But Aunt Hilda smiled at the Brigadier and said in her sweetest voice: "You've been most thoughtful throughout our stay, Squeaky. You are a warm, charming, hospitable, bastardly fink. One who would sell his wife to a Port SaId pimp. Aside from that you are practically perfect."

"Doubled and redoubled!" (That was my Pop!) "Later on, Jones, I'll see you at a time and place of your choosing. Weapons or bare hands."

"And then I will see you, if Jake leaves anything." My husband flexed his fingers. "I hope you choose bare hands."

Bertie interrupted. "I forbid this during this emergency and after it in territory where I am suzerain and while Hird-Jones holds the Sovereign's commission under my command."

Aunt Hilda said, "You are legally correct, Bertie. But you will concede that they had provocation."

"No, Ma'am! Hjrd-Jones is not at fault. I tried to get you and your crew to fly it on any terms at all. You refused. Hird-Jones may kill himself attempting to fly a strange flyer. If so he will die a hero. He is not what you called him."

"I don't think well of you, either, Bertie. You are a thief-stealing our only hope of a future."

"He certainly is!" I cut in. "Governor, I can whip you-I can kill you, with my bare hands. I'm Black-Belt three ways. Are you going to hide behind your Commission and your self-serving laws?" I dusted my hands together. "Coward.

Two cowards, with their chests covered with ribbons boasting about their brave deeds."

"Astrogator."

"Captain."

"Let it drop. Bertie, under right of angary we are entitled to remove our chattels. I insist on a witness so that you will know that we have done nothing to damage the craft. If the Brigadier can drive it, it will be turned over to him in perfect shape. But my jewelry is in our craft and many other things; I must have a witness. You, sir. My stepdaughter can certainly kill you or anyone her size or a bit more than her size, with her bare hands. But I grant you safeconduct. Will you have it in writing?"

Bertie shook his head. "You know I can't take time to witness. Pick anyone else."

"I won't grant safe-conduct to anyone else. Anyone who has not ridden with us would not know how to watch for sabotage. So it must be either you or HirdJones... and Hird-Jones would never live to get out of our car. He has three of the deadliest killers in two universes quite annoyed. Angry over angary."