More probably, Ilmika represented her own people, the Blodland secret agents. Perhaps they had information which the Hotinohsonih lacked. This information might have made them think that Two Hawks could be from a “parallel” universe and so had knowledge of a superior technology. The wreck of the Hiawatha could have been discovered. If it had been, it would present the finders with a disturbing puzzle. The Blodland agents, knowing of it and also of the two strangers and their story, had contacted Lady Thorrsstein. She was to question him to determine if he could be useful.

If this were the true situation, the Blodlandish were not telling their Hotinohsonih allies what they knew. The Blodlandish wanted the information for themselves.

He smiled. Even in the desperate predicament in which both allies were, one was playing against the other. Power politics and national security were as paramount here as on his Earth.

Still, the Blodlandish interest gave him a bargaining position. It might permit O’Brien and himself to escape not only from the asylum but from a country that seemed to be on its way to being defeated and occupied. So far, Blodland was not threatened by invasion.

Before starting his narrative, Two Hawks explained the concept of “parallel” universes as best he could. Ilmika listened attentively, and her questions showed that she was as intelligent as she was pretty. She had no difficulty in understanding him, but whether or not she believed him was another matter. Nevertheless, she encouraged him to go on, which meant she was willing to grant the possibility he might not be a lunatic. Or perhaps she had been told to get his entire story, even if it sounded to her like ravings.

Two Hawks followed his “theory” with a broad outline of how his Earth differed from her Erthe, as it was called in Blodlandish. Then he gave her the background of World War II and of his involvement. He ended with a description of the great American bombing raid on Ploesti and the passing of the Hiawatha through the “gate” and the parachuting into the peasant’s field.

“Your Ploesti is Tkanotaye’koowaah or, as it’s called in Western Europe, Dares, after the original Trojan name,” she said. “The Perkunishans wanted it for the same reason your Germans wanted its counterpart. Oil and gas. You were fortunate you arrived when you did. One day later, and you would have fallen into the enemy hands. They had the area under complete control by then.”

Two Hawks walked to the huge picture window which gave a view of ‘Estokwa. The asylum was on a high hill a few miles from the center of the capitol. The great white marble building of the Teyotoedzayashohkwa’, the Iroquoian version of Parliament or of Congress, dominated the metropolis. To one side was a smaller building, also in Greek style but of red granite. This was the residence of the hakya’tanoh (literally, he watches over me), the elected chief executive.

‘Estokwa, once a seaport of the Trojan colonists, had been razed and its inhabitants massacred when the Iroquoians had taken it after a long siege. The longhouses of the barbarians had been built in the midst of the stone ruins. But now ‘Estokwa was a modern city, indistinguishable at a distance from most West European metropolises. The government and business buildings were constructed of marble or granite and modeled after the classical Akhaivian architecture.

Two Hawks had seen closeup photos of the congressional building in Tarhe’s office. The pillars of the great portico were carved to represent the seven tutelary animals of the seven major tribes that had comprised the original invaders. The exterior walls were covered with friezes depicting not only scenes from history but weird symbolic figures representing characters from religion and folklore. These were executed in the distinctive non-European style that the “red men” had developed after becoming civilized.

Two Hawks wanted it to be otherwise, but he had no genuine identification with these people. They were “Iroquois,” but not the Iroquois he knew. Their past, and present, were too dissimilar, and the influences under which they had come were also too alien. He actually had less identification with them than he had with the white culture of his native United States of America.

Given time, he might have made a satisfactory adjustment. But this nation seemed destined to go down into defeat under the overwhelming might of Perkunisha. If it did, it would give him no home. It would be a hell. The official policy of Perkunisha towards conquered nations was the absolute destruction of all non-Perkunishan traits. First, genocide on a scale that not even the Germany of his world had been bold enough to proclaim publicly. Then colonization by Perkunishans and other Europeans thought sufficiently Nordic to be given Perkunishan citizenship.

Even now, a battle was raging some twenty miles to the west and north of ‘Estokwa. Three enemy armies were battering steadily towards the gates of the capitol. Unless something unlikely happened, the invaders would be in ‘Estokwa within a week. There would be house-to-house fighting then, but the government itself was making plans to evacuate.

As he looked over the city, he saw three dots appear in the blue sky. Presently, they were close enough to be seen as dirigibles. Three huge silvery cigar-shapes, they slid through the air while little puffs of smoke arose beneath them. Serenely, they ignored the futile and primitive anti-aircraft fire and proceeded toward their targets, the congressional building and chief executive’s residence. Many little objects fell from the mammoths’ bellies as they passed one by one over the targets. Clouds of smoke with hearts of fire pillared up from the ground. A few seconds later, the picture window rattled, the asylum building trembled, and he heard the not-too-far-off boom, boom, boom.

Other great sausages appeared. More bombs. The hemispherical roof of the legislators’ building was gone. Wooden houses began to blaze. A factory went up in smoke and flying beams.

Two Hawks heard a door open behind him in one of the brief recesses between the explosions of bombs. He turned to see Thorrsstein’s slave stick her head inside the room. She was a pretty girl of Amerind-white ancestry, a descendant of the aboriginal whites enslaved by the Hotinohsonih. The Lady Thorrsstein had mentioned earlier that the girl had been loaned to her by the Hotinohsonih government because she could speak Blodlandish. Normally, she was stationed at the Blodland embassy in ‘Estokwa. Probably, she was a spy for the Hotinohsonih.

Ilmika asked what she wanted. The girl timidly replied that she wanted to make sure her mistress was all right, that she was not distressed by the bombing. Ilmika did look pale, and her back was even more rigid than usual. But she managed to smile and to say that she was quite all right, thank you. The slave girl remained in the room until ordered to leave. Not until the girl had closed the door behind her did Ilmika speak again. By that, Two Hawks knew that she too suspected the girl. That must also be why Ilmika had permitted herself to be alone in a room with a man. Custom demanded that any unmarried women of noble birth always be chaperoned under such situations.

Ilmika spoke in a low voice. “My government has reason to believe that your story could be true.”

“They know of the flying machine,” he said.

“Yes. But there is more. Perkunisha knows of it, also. Moreover, they have another flying machine. They also have the man who was flying it. He is in Berlin now. The Perkunishans have tried to keep both the machines and their captive secret, but we have our ways of getting information.”

Two Hawks swore. He had been so preoccupied with his own affairs that he had not once thought of the German plane that had appeared at the same time the Hiawatha had gone through the gate. Of course! The German aviator must also have come into this world.