Dogs of War

by David Drake

  “Order them home,” I begged Twelve Jackson. “They are doomed here.”

  “We don't have the power,” said Jackson. “We can only help them home if they want to go.”

  I rang up Euben on the eaber channel which I used for official communications—so far, mostly for protests. Euben made his innocent, bird-twitter laugh. “Thank you for your protest about the colony extinction,” he said. “This keeps my clerks busy. Your colony may leave at any time. In fact, I recommend this. We will need all the space on this planet very soon.”

  Three days passed.

  I found the remnant of Rackrill's tattered colony in a sort of forest stockade. They were stiff with me, embarrassed about the stoning incident. They were ghost men, and a few women, going through the motions of building crude houses and planting their food.

  Martha was an exception.

  “They will stay,” she said proudly, her eyes glowing. “They will be buttressed by the great crusade our space tapes have started. First the story of the miserable pet-human, then the eaber drone thing, then the mass attack on the unguarded colony. Back home men are leaving their jobs, pouring their savings into fighting ships. Institutions are subscribing money. Governments are amassing new fighters. We've got the backing of all the thinking men in solar and alpha!”

  “It is too late in civilization for an emotion-powered, unorganized mass movement to succeed,” I said. “Only Transstar is properly equipped for space war.”

  “Even Transstar men are quitting to join us!” she cried.

  “Possibly a few at the lower levels. Not the agents.”

  “No—not the dehumanized agents! Nor the feeble old men of Transstar Prime who stole their power from the government of men, who drool over buttons they never dare push!”

  “The eaber do this to provoke us,” I said, “to show our power at their command, at their site of battle, at a time they control. That's why Transstar Prime won't be sucked into the trap.”

  “They want to fight us. The time is now!” she said.

  “The time is not yet,” I said.

  I went back to my lonely ship, haunted by the faces of Rackrill and his men as they glowed on my report tapes. I hunted the news broadcasts of solar and alpha and watched the revulsion and convulsion of men back home—the enormous waste of the emotional jag. I saw ships starting from Earth to reach us, ill-prepared even to reach the Moon, hurling across space vastnesses to become derelicts. I saw men throwing their pocket money at passing paraders of the antieaber crusade, normal shipping woefully hampered by the ridiculous items being sent to Rackrill's defenders. Government leaders, sensing the temper of the voters, threw their weight at Transstar Prime, calling for action. They got nowhere. Transstar resists temporary popular politics just as it does local situations.

  “You certainly can't call this a local situation!” I told Twelve Jackson.

  He sighed. “No, not any more. But the principle is missing. Everybody's mad, but the eaber haven't yet posed a major threat to the human race.”

  “They've got a couple hundred thousand fighting ships at our perimeter,” I said.

  “They haven't invaded territory we call our own. All the fighting is in no man's land. We're trained to determine a real danger from a false one, and so far they don't seem to be a real danger.”

  “It can get late fast,” I said.

  “Are you ready to ask for Condition Prime Total Red?”

  There was a silence while I tried to separate my sympathetic feelings from the intelligence of the military situation. “No, sir,” I said.

  “Thirteen Mayberry agrees with you,” said Twelve, looking over his shoulder, and then I saw the shadow of a sleeve of the top man. Transstar's Prime Prime, as the agents half-jokingly called him.

  At least the desiccated old men near Mars were getting more interested.

  On the day the first Earth-crusade task force arrived, both Martha and Rackrill came to the ship.

  “You know it's the end of Transstar,” Martha told me. She was more subdued and serious, but she still had the high-school glow of mysticism in her eyes. “The people have been sold out for the last time.”

  “No one's been sold out,” I said. “We are in a painful contact with a race that is both powerful and primitive. They can't be reasoned with, yet we can't blow them up until, at least, they give evidence that they intend to blow us up. So far it's only a border incident, as they used to be called in one-world days.”

  “We aren't waiting,” said Martha. “Five thousand ships! The first wave of the anti-eaber crusade will attack soon.”

  Martha put me so much in mind of Alicia—the way she held her head, the way she moved her hands. Once both Alicia and I had been at a point of resigning from Transstar and leading normal lives. But something in the blood and bone had made our marriage to Transstar stronger—until she was killed on a mission, and it was forever too late for me to quit. I was aware that I was too loyal to the organization, which was, after all, merely another society of men.

  Yet, right now, I found myself questioning Prime's judgment.

  Certainly they could have given me power to negotiate for the colony with Euben. Certainly there were some potent weapons, short of total war, which we could have used on these vain primitives as easily as the ones they used on us. Nor need I have been brought to my knees in front of Euben.

  Yet my orders were to observe—report—take no action.

  We went aloft to watch the Earthmen's attack. Both Martha and Rackrill were set for an initial penetration to the first eaber city. As the massive fleet from Earth wheeled in from space and went directly to the attack, they cheered like students in a rooting section. I cautioned them that five thousand ships, strained from a long flight from alpha, could hardly upset the eaber.

  “It's only the first group!” cried Martha. “This is only the glorious beginning!”

  The eaber took no chances. They lofted fifteen thousand ships and pulled the Earthmen into a box.

  It took them about four hours to defeat the Earth attack. When the four hours passed, only about three hundred of the Earth fleet remained to sink to the oblivion of Rackrill's colony and lick their wounds.

  “No matter,” said Martha as we landed. “There will be more tomorrow and the day after that and after that. We'll blacken the skies with ships.”

  But she went quickly, avoiding my eyes.

  “You'll always have sanctuary on my ship,” I told Rackrill as he went.

  “Your ship!” he snorted. “After today I'd rather trust my own stockade when Euben comes around. Incidentally, he has been kidnaping my work parties. Tell him we don't like that. Tell him we've been able to catch a few eaber, and when we do we cut them into four equal parts while they're still alive.”

  “Please don't,” I said.

  Euben came along as I was having my evening tea. “Ah, my scholarly friend with the glasses and the tea-drinking, the big words and the scoldings. I must thank you for keeping at least a part of our fleet in practice. A rather nice patrol action today, Webster. Is that your Transstar?”

  “No. I ask you now what your intentions are as to this planet and our future relations,” I said, aware that Transstar Prime, through this ship, had been watching the long day's affairs.

  Euben had brought his friend with him. They both lolled at their ease in my cabin.

  “It has been hard to determine,” said Euben. “We have finally decided that, rather than waste rays killing off all Earthmen, we shall simply turn them into eaber. An inferior eaber, but still eaber. We have taken a few samples from Rackrill's post as prototypes.”

  “This is forbidden!” I snapped.

  “You will declare war?” asked Euben eagerly. I thought his eagerness had grown.

  “We don't know whom we deal with,’’ I said. “You may be only a patrol captain, with a small command.”

  “I could also be commander-in-chief of all the eaber in space,” said Euben. “Which I happen to be.”
>
  He said it too offhandedly for it to be a lie, although I suspected he was really deputy commander to the silent eaber who stood behind him.

  “Then I formally demand that you cease and desist all harassments, mutilations, and hostilities against humans,” I said.

  Euben looked at me a long time. Then he held out what could reasonably be called an arm, which his companion grasped.

  My ship seemed to whirl about me. It was no such thing. Instead I was suspended upside down in the air over my desk, and Euben and the other left the ship. “Farewell, brave-foolish,” called Euben mockingly. “Next time I come it is to collect you for eaberization!”

  His laugh was proud and full of confidence.

  When I finally managed to right myself and get back behind my desk, I called Transstar Prime and got Twelve Jackson. I feared I saw a flick of amusement in his eyes. “They are determined now for war,” I said. “How do we stand?”

  “You continue to observe,” said Jackson. “Point Ever-ready is not necessary to Earth. And you have not convinced us that a battle needs to be fought.”

  I had not convinced them. But what did I—a mere agent—have to do with it?

  I rang off and closed the ship, in sorrow and anger. I had been aloof from the situation, to the point where Euben had stood me on my head and threatened to capture me bodily.

  I put on my combat slacks and broke out my weapons. Transstar could remain uninvolved, but I wasn't going to sit at my desk, be stood on my ear, and blithely be turned into an eaber all for the glory of the organization.

  I rode over to Rackrill's stockade full of cold purpose.

  I was no rugged primitive colonist. I was a trained agent, with quite a few good weapons and considerable experience in hostilities, especially against alien life-forms. Euben would have no easy time taking me.

  I found Rackrill in more trouble. “Look,” he fumed, pointing to a dead eaber at the wall of the stockade. “We shot this fellow. Look closely.”

  It was easy to see that it was one of his own colonists, upon whom extensive biology had been used to turn him into something eaberlike.

  “It's going to happen to us all,” shuddered Martha. “The crusade has collapsed. There'll be no more Earth ships. Distances are too great—governments are too busy with their home affairs. We have been outlawed in all major planets.”

  I stared at the white-faced colonial leaders in distaste.

  “For God's sake, quit sniveling and feeling sorry for yourselves,” I said. “We're going to fight these beasts and do it right. First, I want an antenna. I can draw power from my ship that the eaber can't crack. Second, I want to fight an eaber-type war. Get your colonists together for indoctrination. These eaber have primitive mind-reading abilities; I want to start training our men to set up mind guards against that. Last, we're going to dig some tunnels in this ground and blow the eaber into orbit. They don't like things underground. They have no defense for it. So let's get organized!”

  “Thank God!” cried Martha. “Transstar is coming in at last.”

  “No,” I said. “Just Charles Webster.”

  We fought the eaber for twenty days.

  They couldn't penetrate the power wall I set up with the help of the ship, using Transstar power. They couldn't waylay our work parties in the woods after I taught them how to use mind-blocks which were meaningless to the eaber.

  We got our tunnel through and blew up one third of an eaber city with one of my strontium 90 pills. We were also able to capture a few eaber patrol ships and send them right back, with fair-sized atomic blasts. The rest we manned and used against the eaber. They were totally confused with being attacked by their own ships. It wasn't enough to destroy a twentieth of their operation. But it kept them busy.

  I was never once outside my combat slacks.

  I got little sleep. I lived for the present moment, working hand and shoulder with Rackrill's men. When disaster came, it came all at once.

  I led a night patrol to place the next strontium 90 pill overland—tunneling was too slow. I caught an eaber freeze-ray that shattered my leg. In the confusion we lost Martha to the eaber, which I only learned when I'd been carried back to the stockade.

  When dawn broke, Rackrill shook me out of a dazed sleep.

  “Look,” he said.

  “Ten thousand ships to destroy two dozen men,” I laughed. “It's all right, Alicia.”

  Rackrill slapped my face. “Better come out of it, Webster. Can we stand an attack like that?”

  I gulped a wake-up pill and brought myself alert. “No, we cannot. This is our day for extinction. Our only decision now is to pick the time and place of our going. Let's get over to the Transstar ship as fast as possible.”

  “I'm not leaving Point Everready,” growled Rackrill.

  “Nor am I,” I said. “Let's move, man.”

  It was a sticky hour getting back to my ship. By that time our stockade, power block and all, had been pulverized to dust behind us by the attacking weight of the eaber ships.

  “Take me up, Rackrill,” I said as we reached the bottom of the ship. “I can't climb any more.”

  He pointed up dumbly. The fox faces of Euben and his eternal companion grinned down at us. I shifted out a gun and took off the safety. “Take me up, Rackrill.”

  It was almost ceremonial as Rackrill and the bare half-dozen who had made it through gathered about me in the cabin. I eased painfully into my chair. Euben saw my leg and grinned. “Looks like an amputation before we can make you a useful eaber,” he said.

  My bullet skipped across his shoulder. “Stand over by that wall, you,” I said. “You, Euben! I'm talking to you.”

  “You cannot order me,” he said, but he moved back sprightly enough. “I humor you, you see,” he said. “Your stockade is gone. You have nothing but this ship. I have decided to have it gently blasted into space as worthless junk.”

  He gestured out of the window, where his ships were making passes now. My Transstar ship shuddered. “We can bounce it off the planet like a harmless rubber ball,” he said. He gestured in back of me. “I have also returned your woman, of whom you think so much. She is worthless to become an eaber.”

  I turned and saw the thin shape of what had once been Martha, huddled on my navigator's bench. It was obvious that they had treated her roughly. From the trickle of blood at her mouth, she was badly hemorrhaged. She could not live.

  I stared down at her. It was hard to tell if she still recognized me. She opened her mouth slightly, and I saw the black familiar shape of the eaber reptile tongue.

  I turned away, light-headed with sorrow and anger.

  I jabbed a button and looked up at the tall TV. It wasn't Twelve Jackson. It was Thirteen Mayberry, Mr. Prime himself.

  “What are you staring at, you old goat?” I cried, a little hysterically. “Sore because I took action to save my own hide?”

  “No, you young fool. I was just wondering how long you'd permit this minor outrage to go on.”

  “It ends now!” I said. “Listen, Prime, I have Earth people here who demand sanctuary of Transstar.”

  “You have it,” he said. “We will up that ship, son. No power in the universe will keep it on the ground.”

  “The eaber are upping it quite nicely, thanks,” I said. “But we don't want it upped!”

  I had to stop talking while the thudding blows of the gentle eaber rays buffeted the ship.

  “Not upped?” asked Mayberry.

  “No, sir, not upped. We're staying! We hold the ground that this Transstar ship rests on, in the name of Earth. It isn't much, only about fifty feet long and twenty-five wide, but it's Earth territory. No race or force may deprive us of our real estate.”

  “You tell him!” cried Rackrill.

  I turned to Euben. “Now, friend,” I said, “just ease this ship back to our ground. It's Earth ground. We intend to hold it!”

  “Your leg wound has made you mad,” said Euben, with a shrug. “We have decided tha
t you are not even worthy to be eaber pets.”

  “Last warning, Euben! You've got yourself a Transstar situation.”

  Euben didn't hesitate.

  He turned his hands in the air. I rolled in pain, but I kept seated. When I could see again from the pain, I looked up. Mayberry and Jackson and Hennessy and the forty-one division commanders of Transstar were blazing from the wall. The TV looked like a Christmas tree.

  “Transstar orders this ship down and that ground preserved in the name of Earth-alpha!” said Mayberry shortly to Euben.

  Euben looked at the old man and shook his head. “Madmen,” he said. “I spit on you.” He spit on the screen at Mayberry. He had learned Earth insults well.

  “My condition is Prime Total Red,” I told Mayberry.

  He leaned forward and closed the seldom-closed circuit at Transstar Prime.

  “Your condition is Prime Total Red, and your ship is now command post for all Earth-alpha star power.”

  I leaned over and tapped a button. We left Point Everready in the beautiful swoop that only a Transstar ship could perform. I held us high in the atmosphere over the planet and looked sadly down. It had been a beautiful planet.

  I hit another button and looked up at the forty-one division commanders of Transstar. “Your orders are to destroy the eaber,” I said.

  I sat back. For a few seconds it was deathly silent, while Euben sputtered and fussed about his quick ride up over the planet. Then there was the faintest whisper of—something—back and out and behind us.

  “Brace yourselves, folks,” I told the Earthmen. “It's going to be loud and crowded around here!”

  Euben jabbered at some kind of communicator he held in his hands. His partner likewise gabbled.

  “We have a hundred and fifty thousand ships,” he told me. “We'll tear you to shreds!”

  I kicked a chair over at him. “Sit down. You're going to want to sit in a minute.”