ans, answered.

"We must have help, General von Schlichten," she told him. "The native
troops, all but two hundred Kragans, have mutinied. They have
everything here except Company House--docks, airport, everything.
We're trying to hold out, but there are thousands of them. Our Takkad
Native Infantry, soldiers of King Orgzild's army, and townspeople.
They all seem to have firearms...."

"What happened to Eric Blount and your Resident-Agent, Mr. Lemoyne?"

"We don't know. They were at the Palace, talking to King Orgzild.
We've tried to call the Palace, but we can't get through, general, we
must have help...."

A call came in, a few minutes later, from Krink, five hundred miles to
the northeast across the mountains; the Resident-Agent there, one
Francis Xavier Shapiro, reported rioting in the city and an attempted
palace-revolution against King Jonkvank, and that the Residency was
under attack. By way of variety, it was the army of King Jonkvank that
had mutinied; the Sixth North Uller Native Infantry and the two
companies of Zirk cavalry at Krink were still loyal, along with the
Kragans.

There was a pattern to all this. Von Schlichten stood staring at the
big map, on the wall, showing the Takkad Sea area at the Equatorial
Zone, and the country north of it to the pole, the area of Uller
occupied by the Company. He was almost beginning to discern the
underlying logic of the past half-hour's events when Keaveney, the
Skilk Resident, blundered into him in a half-daze.

"Sorry, general, didn't see you." His face was ashen, and his jowls
sagged. Von Schlichten wondered if there could be another spectacle so
woe-begone as a back-slapping extrovert with the bottom knocked out of
him. "My God, it's happening all over Uller! Not just here at Skilk;
everywhere where we have a residency or a trading-station. Why, it's
the end of all of us!"

"It's not quite that bad, Mr. Keaveney." He looked at his watch. It
was now nearly an hour since the native troops here at Skilk had
mutinied. Insurrections like this usually succeeded or failed in the
first hour. It was a little early to be certain, but he was beginning
to suspect that this one hadn't succeeded. "If we all do our part,
we'll come out of it all right," he told Keaveney, more cheerfully
than he felt, then turned to ask Brigadier-General Mordkovitz how the
fighting was going at the native-troops barracks.

"Not badly, general. Colonel Jarman's got some contragravity up a