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Blejjo nodded. “Looks like it. He thinks a great deal of Kevenoe.”

“No reason why he shouldn’t,” said Anketam. “Kevenoe’s a good man.”

“Oh, I know that,” said the old man. “But Basom won’t like it at all. And I don’t think Zillia will, either.”

“That’s the way things happen,” said Anketam. “A man can’t expect to go through life having everything his own way. There’s other girls around for Basom. If he can’t have the prettiest, he’ll have to be satisfied with someone else.” He chuckled. “That’s why I picked Memi. She’s not beautiful and never was, but she’s a wonderful wife.”

“That’s so,” said Blejjo. “A wise man is one who only wants what he knows he can have. Right now”–he took off his hat and wiped his bald head–“all I want is a dip in that river.”

“Swim first and then fish?”

“I think so, don’t you? Basom was right about this hot sun.”

“I’ll go along with you,” agreed Anketam.

They made their way to the river, to the shallow place at the bend where everyone swam. There were a dozen and more kids there, having a great time in the slow moving water, and several of the older people soaking themselves and keeping an eye on the kids to make sure they didn’t wander out to where the water was deep and the current swift.

Anketam and Blejjo took off their clothes and cooled themselves in the water for a good half hour before they dressed again and went on upriver to a spot where Blejjo swore the fish were biting.

They were. In the next four hours, the two men had caught six fish apiece, and Blejjo was trying for his seventh. Here, near the river, there was a slight breeze, and it was fairly cool beneath the overhanging branches of the closely bunched trees.

Blejjo had spotted a big, red-and-yellow striped beauty loafing quietly in a back eddy, and he was lowering his hook gently to a point just in front of the fish when both men heard the voice calling.

“Anketam! Anketam! Blejjo! Where you at?”

Blejjo went on with his careful work, knowing that Anketam would take care of whatever it was.

Anketam recognized the voice. He stood up and called: “Over here, Basom! What’s the trouble?”

A minute later, Basom came running through the trees, his feet crashing through the underbrush.

Blejjo sat up abruptly, an angry look on his face. “Basom, you scared my fish away.”

“Fish, nothing,” said Basom. “I ran all the way here to tell you!” He was grinning widely and panting for breath at the same time.

“You suddenly got an awful lot of energy,” Blejjo said sourly.

“What happened?” Anketam asked.

“The invasion!” Basom said between breaths. “Kevenoe himself came down to tell us! They’ve started the invasion! The war’s on!”

“Than what are you looking so happy about?” Anketam snapped.

“That’s what I came to tell you.” Basom’s grin didn’t fade in the least. “They landed up in the Frozen Country, where our missiles couldn’t get ’em, according to Kevenoe. Then they started marching down on one of the big towns. Tens of thousands of ’em! And we whipped ’em! Our army cut ’em to pieces and sent ’em running back to their base! We won! We won!”

III

The battle had been won, but the war wasn’t won yet. The invaders had managed to establish a good-sized base up in the Frozen Country. They’d sneaked their ships in and had put up a defensive system that stopped any high-speed missiles. Not that Xedii had many missiles. Xedii was an agricultural planet; most manufactured articles were imported. It had never occurred to the government of Xedii that there would be any real need for implements of war.

The invaders seemed to be limiting their use of weapons, too. They wanted to control the planet, not destroy it. Through the summer and into the autumn, Anketam listened to the news as it filtered down from the battlegrounds. There were skirmishes here and there, but nothing decisive. Xedii seemed to be holding her own against the invaders.