“I come from Family Bishop. I honor these lands of, of…” Killeen had begun the old greeting in hopes that some idea would come to him, but now he needed to insert the name of this Family.
“Treys!” the whisper said.
“…Treys, seeking help in a time of dire need, against the depredations and torments inflicted by our mutual—”
“Bindings!” the man behind the desk shouted.
Instantly hands grabbed Killeen’s arms and swiftly tied them behind him. He let them without protest, because of something he glimpsed in the man’s eyes as the orders were given. The empty eyes had suddenly jerked with animated fire, a spasm of wrenching pleasure.
The man stood up. Honorific pendants swayed from a broad scarlet belt that neatly bisected his blue suit. “He is disarmed?”
A whisper answered, “Aye, Your Supremacy.”
“He understands his position in our cause?”
The whisperer near Killeen hesitated, then said, “He is a Cap’n, Your Supremacy, so we did not feel qualified to instruct him.”
Evidently this transparent attempt to shift responsibility worked, for the swarthy man nodded calmly and spread his hands toward Killeen, as if addressing a problem. “I must attend to this myself, then.” Abruptly he frowned at Killeen. “Your Family?”
“Bishop.”
“No such.”
“We’re not from this planet.”
“Never heard such.”
“We came here searching for refuge from the mechs.”
“Ha! You chose well. Here we have vanquished them.”
“So I see.”
“You see only that which I determine,” the short man said reasonably. “You will understand that.”
“I, ah—”
“It is the devil Cybers we fight now. They too shall yield to our bravery and ardor and spirits of fire.”
“Cybers?”
His Supremacy nodded, eyes empty again. Lips pursed, expression expectant, he seemed to be listening to some distant voice. Then his attention returned and the muscles of his face stretched his olive skin so that it gleamed beneath the cone of phosphorescent radiance that cascaded around him. The brilliant ball directly above cast a pearly circle on the floor, with the swarthy man as its center. The crowd kept its distance, venturing only as far as the softer glow of the oil lamps intruded into the hard, white circle.
He continued abruptly, as though there had been no pause. “They cut the lands with their great sword. Just as victory came to us, as the mechs fled before our assaults, these giant things fell upon us from the sky. Our triumph was denied. But we shall conquer!”
This provoked loud shouts of agreement from everyone in the tent.
The man looked expectantly at Killeen. “This action is, of course, a tribute to my immortal nature. They send against me the very worst that the evil-hinged skies can muster.”
His eyes left Killeen and shot around the room, moving intently from face to face beneath the oily yellow glow. His lips bulged out as if barely containing a vast pressure.
“They compliment us! By sending their most awful and powerful, now that the mechs are rabble scurrying to escape our bootheels. They do us honor! And they shall die.”
Abruptly he deflected his glowering, building rage down to where Killeen knelt, and in a long sigh the rage evaporated. In a blink his eyes regained their neutral emptiness.
He said mildly, “And I am glad that you have come to aid in my time of need.”
Killeen said carefully, “I am alone now, sir. My—”
“Supremacy!” a hard whisper in his ear urged.
“I am alone, Supremacy, my Family—”
“The Bishops, you called them?” the short man said judicially.
“Yeasay, they—”
“I had thought they were lying. I had never heard of any such Family, and fancied them wastrel renegade Deuces or Trumps.”
Killeen asked excitedly, “Bishops? Here?”
“You understand, a mind focused on the defense of our race cannot but leave details to others. I reserve my time for communion with the spirit that moves over and within and through us.”
“They’re here, Supremacy?”
The heavy, dark eyebrows arched in an expression of bemused interest. “We found them wandering. They had a story about landing in mech craft and escaping the Cyber air raids that we had seen the day before. I thought this a mere fashioned lie. Now that you appear—a Cap’n, I judge from your insignia—this explains it.”
“How many?”
