Striking the Balance

What he’d told the Lizard was indeed true. From everything he’d heard, the troops around Pskov treated Lizard prisoners far better than the Germans had treated their Russian captives, or vice versa. Being hard to come by, Lizard prisoners were valuable. The Nazis and Reds had had plenty of chances to take each other’s measure.

“In return for giving these wounded males back to the Race, you want what?” Nikeaa asked, and made a queer coughing noise that sounded like something left over from his own language. “We also have captives, Germans and Russians. We have no Britainish here, this I tell you. We do not harm these captured ones after we have them. We give them for yours. We give ten for one. If you like.”

“Not enough,” Bagnall said.

“Then we give twenty for one,” Nikeaa said. Bagnall had heard from others who’d dealt with the Lizards that they were not good bargainers. Now he saw what they’d meant. Human negotiators would not have backpedaled so readily.

“Still not enough,” he said. “Along with the soldiers, we want a hundred of your books or films, and two of your machines that play the films, along with working batteries for them.”

Nikeaa drew back in alarm. “You want us to give you our secrets?” He made that coughing noise again. “It cannot be.”

“No, no. You misunderstand,” Bagnall said hastily. “We know you will not give us any military manuals or things of that sort. We want your novels, your stories, whatever science you have that will not let us build weapons with what we learn from it. Give us these things and we will be content.”

“If you cannot use them immediately, why do you want them?” Reading tone into a Lizard’s voice probably told you more about yourself than about the Lizard, but Bagnall thought Nikeaa sounded suspicious. The alien went on, “This is not how Tosevites usually behave.” Yes, he was suspicious.

“We want to learn more about your kind,” Bagnall answered. “Eventually, this war will end, and your people and mine will live side by side.”

“Yes. You will be our subjects,” Nikeaa said flatly.

But Bagnall shook his head. “Not necessarily. If your conquest were as easy as you’d thought it was going to be, it would have been finished by now. You’ll need to be dealing with us more nearly as equals at least until the end of the war, and maybe afterwards as well. And we with you-the same does apply. I gather you’ve been studying us for a long time. We’re just beginning to learn about you.”And most of what we have learned I don’t fancy.

“I have not the authority to decide this on my own,” Nikeaa said. “It is not a demand we were prepared for, and so I must consult with my superiors before replying.”

“If you must, then you must,” Bagnall said; he’d already noted-and he was sure he was far from the only one who had-that the Lizards were not good at deciding things on the spur of the moment.

He’d tried to put disappointment in his own voice when he replied, though he doubted whether Nikeaa recognized it. Even inserting it wasn’t easy. If the Lizards did come up with the books and films and readers, they wouldn’t stay in Pskov. Half of them would go to Moscow, the other half to… no, not to Berlin, which was ruined, but to some town in Germany. The NKVD, no doubt, would pore over one set, and theGestapo

over the other. No matter how much he wanted mankind to defeat the Lizards, Bagnall had a devil of a time finding much enthusiasm for the notion of the Bolsheviks and Nazis getting a leg up on England and the United States in understanding the alien invaders. He’d seen Hitler and Stalin’s men in action, and had more often been horrflied than impressed.

Nikeaa said, “I will report this condition of yours and will make my reply when my superiors determine what the correct response should be. Shall we meet again in fifteen days? I hope to have their decision by that time.”

“I had not expected so long a delay,” Bagnall said.

“Decisions should not be made hastily, especially those of such importance,” Nikeaa said. Was that reproach he was trying to convey? Bagnall had trouble being sure. The Lizard added, “We are not Tosevites, after all, to rush into everything.” Yes, reproach, or perhaps just scorn.

“Fifteen days, then,” Bagnall said, and made for the woods where his escort-a mixed party, or rather two separate parties, one German, the other Russian-awaited his return. He glanced back over his shoulder. Nikeaa was hurrying away toward his own folk. Bagnall’s sigh sent a plume of fog out ahead of him. But for Ken Embry the pilot and Jerome Jones the radarman, his folk were far from Pskov.

Captain Martin Borcke was holding Bagnall’s horse. TheWehrmacht man spoke fluent English; Bagnall thought he was in Intelligence, but wasn’t certain. In English, he asked, “Have we got the exchange agreement?”