At Skilk, King Firkked's afraid his feudal nobility
is going to force a Runnymede on him, so he's been currying favor with
the urban merchants; that makes him as pro-Rakkeed and as anti-Terran
as they are. At Krink, King Jonkvank has the support of his barons,
but he's afraid of his urban bourgeoisie, and we pay him a handsome
subsidy, so he's pro-Terran and anti-Rakkeed. At Skilk, Rakkeed comes
and goes openly; at Krink he has a price on his head."
"Jonkvank is not one of the assets we boast about too loudly,"
Hideyoshi O'Leary said, pausing on his way from the table. "He's as
bloody-minded an old murderer as you'd care not to meet in a dark
alley."
"We can turn our backs on him and not expect a knife between our
shoulders, anyhow," von Schlichten said. "And we can believe, oh, up
to eighty per cent of what he tells us, and that's sixty per cent
better than any of the other native princes, except King Kankad, of
course. The Kragans are the only real friends we have on this planet."
He thought for a moment. "Miss Quinton, are you doing sociographic
research-work here, in addition to your Ex-Rights work?" he asked.
"Well, let me advise you to pay some attention to the Kragans."
"Oh, but they're just a parasite-race on the Terrans," Dr. Paula
Quinton objected. "You find races like that all through the explored
Galaxy--pathetic cultural mongrels.
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