“Nothing so extreme is required. It is only necessary to deny transportation facilities to Earth.”
“You think so? You have only lived among them, fought alongside them, known them as soldiers, whereas I have had the opportunity to continue to study them. You forget that their technological advancement was restricted by its emphasis on the military and by intertribal conflict. With the end of such conflicts they have been freed to normally develop for the first time in their history.
“They have for improvisation and for improving upon existing technology a remarkable capacity which for the first time in their development they are putting to use.”
“What are you saying?” Caldaq muttered.
“That their exposure to Weave technology has given them knowledge enough to build their own ships. They the ability have. They no longer to their own world can be restricted.”
Caldaq sat down heavily. “Then all is lost.”
“Nothing is lost. Truly. You and I are not the only ones of the potential problem cognizant, although I am more intimately familiar with it than any other. Others alerted have been, or similar conclusions as the result of their own studies have reached. While it would be heretical to discuss it in public, I can assure you that certain select small study groups do so in private.
“As the war against the Amplitur is pursued, informed members of the nonmilitaristic species will decide how with the problem of Humankind to deal. As Humans learn from the Weave, so will the Weave learn from them. As we study them, we may even learn the secret of their biological defense against Amplitur intrusion. It would be worth retaining them as allies if for that only. Eventually they will be managed and integrated into Weave civilization.”
“‘Managed’?” Caldaq murmured. “That sounds very much like the approach the Amplitur would take.”
The physician was undisturbed by the commander’s accusation. “We will not change Humankind in that fashion. Their independence of thought will not be restricted. Were we to attempt to do so, we would indeed be like the Amplitur.” Teeth clicked together. “Who knows but that they might react to us as they have to the Amplitur? No. This is more a matter of Human energy to useful channels turning.”
“If you and your friends believe you can do that, then you are unrepentant optimists.”
“Truly we can be nothing else. You fear Humans. I have more reason to do so, yet I have succeeded in coming to terms with their presence among us. I am of the potential difficulties they present aware but still wish to a basis for eventually dealing with them establish.”
Caldaq wished Jaruselka were there beside him. He missed her calming influence, her sound advice. Missed the partnership.
“We will never be able to manage them,” he said quietly. “All sentients develop and mature through mutual cooperation. Humans are the only species to have done so as the result of continual conflict. Their genetic makeup as well as their society is warped.”
“Truly we can help to change that,” said the physician. “Any people helped can be.”
“Are you so certain?” Caldaq asked her.
“The S’van can manipulate us while we unaware of it remain. I have seen them do the same to Humans. S’van suggestion is not the same as Amplitur manipulation.
“Humankind is its destiny fulfilling, doing what it was designed to do. For that they are to be pitied more than feared. My people do not socialize with them. Nor do the S’van, or the Wais, or any other. They are at once brilliant and barbaric, but they are not hopeless. In time they can be civilized.”
“If not, it will be our fault,” Caldaq pointed out. “We have asked them to fight, to give free rein to the very instincts they have been struggling throughout their history to suppress.”
“At least they cannot now themselves exterminate. By providing them with a common enemy we have given them unity as a species, something they might otherwise never have achieved. Did you know that they were their own planet destroying? They were dying in the grip of their own perverted instincts. They spoke contradictory nonsense like ‘fighting for peace.’ We have them the outlet they needed given. We have given them time. And in time we will give them civilization.
“But not now. For now we need them as they are, as they have been. Dangerous. Truly.”
“It is a terrible responsibility.” Caldaq gazed into the distance. “I had the opportunity to observe Humans at peace, verging on true civilization.”
The physician dismissed the comment. “What you saw was the veneer Humans invented have to their sanity maintain. Inside they are all alike. It is something even they are beginning to admit to. As a physician I know that for a patient the first step in receiving successful treatment is to admit that one needs help. For the moment, however, we must convince them that they do not. Are you now changing your opinion of them?”
It was raining outside. From the hospital room Caldaq could see the western ocean, dark green glass beneath a troubled sky.
“No. I fear them as they are, and so it concerns me that we do not begin immediately to try to civilize them. The more we allow them to utilize their natural abilities on our behalf, the more difficult it will be to eventually change them.”
“Truly that is so. But we have no choice. We must continue upon the path we have chosen and hope that when we reach its end, Humans will continue to walk with us.” The physician stared at the Massood’s back.
“If it helps, you might an alternative future contemplate.”
Caldaq glanced tiredly back over his shoulder. “What?”
The physician spoke with all the somberness of which her kind was capable. “Consider the possibilities if the Amplitur had encountered Humankind first.”
The False Mirror
For Harry E. Fischer,
Able-bodied seaman and fellow voyager.
I
By the time he was twelve years old, Ranji knew he liked to kill. His parents, naturally, encouraged him.
By the time of the Trials he had added four years of experience, education, and maturity to a great deal of additional height, weight, and strength. With these came confidence in his abilities, a soft-spoken assurance much admired and valued by the rest of the soldier-trainees in his age group.
There was no jealousy among them, that being an alien concept shared by the multitude of monsters whose ultimate goal was the destruction of civilization. Why would anyone be jealous of him? Were they not all striving for the same end, seeking enthusiastically the same results? Achievement among friends was to be applauded, not envied. Who would not wish to have a soldier more skilled in the arts of combat than oneself fighting on his flank?
So each trainee strove to outdo his or her competitors while simultaneously urging them to greater achievement.
Until the monsters arrived on the scene, civilization had been advancing steadily across the cosmos, spreading organization where hitherto had been only chaos. The pace had been slow but gratifyingly inexorable. Occasional setbacks were accepted and taken in stride until ground lost could, as it inevitably was, be regained.
Then a thousand or so years ago the alliance of monsters had been encountered, and everything had changed.
Many were unpleasant to contemplate physically as well as intellectually, while others differed little in appearance from Ranji’s own kind. The worst were utterly unpredictable, savage and cunning beyond belief, possessed of a feral intelligence that made them awful to encounter on the battlefield.
With such as these in the vanguard, the alliance of monsters had wreaked considerable havoc. But their recent advances had been halted, the situation stabilized. Soon the civilized peoples would begin pushing them back, rescuing as they advanced those poor, benighted populations who had suffered for centuries under the monsters’ dominion.
Ranji and his friends knew this to be inevitable. Their own training both as soldiers and civilized citizens proved it so. No matter how strong, the forces of chaos could never overcome and defeat those of civiliz
ation. Not as long as determined fighters like Ranji-aar and his companions continued to rise through the ranks to take their place at the forefront of civilization’s defense.
While there was no place in true society for jealousy, room was allowed for pardonable pride. In the fifteen-to-seventeen-year-old cluster, he and his trainee squad repeatedly graded out at or near the top of their class. In fact, on all of Cossuut only one other squad regularly posted scores matching those of Ranji’s. That was a group from Kizzmat Township, which lay just on the other side of the Massmari mountains, near the junction of the rivers Nerse and Joutoula. Near enough for a friendly rivalry of reputations to have been invented by the media. As graduation exercises progressed, both squads qualified easily for the planetary finals in their age group.
His mother and father took quiet pride in the effortless qualification of their son and his friends, as they had in all his achievements. Their delight was perhaps magnified somewhat by the fact that neither of them had been a soldier. Ranji’s father worked in a factory which produced nanotronic components, while his mother was a teacher. Certainly her tutoring abilities contributed to Ranji’s success, as well as to that of his younger brother, Saguio, and his baby sister, Cynsa.
Though jealousy was unknown among the trainees, it was still a good thing that Ranji was not the best at everything. His friend Birachii-uun was stronger, Cossinza-iiv much faster. But in Ranji was found the best combination of warrior attributes, a fact which was reflected in his individual scores. Certainly he was the smartest of his companions.
Though only sixteen, he was often nominated to serve as leader during important exercises. This was almost unheard of. Strategy leaders were inevitably chosen from the ranks of seniors: seventeen- and eighteen-year-olds. Fully conscious of such honors, he carried them well. Coupled with exceptional organizational skills, his drive and determination rarely disappointed those who placed their faith in him. His ability was a fact his peers recognized and applauded.
He took pleasure in his accomplishments because he saw how much they pleased his parents. To him, approbation meant little. He was interested only in the job at hand, and in doing it well. For that reason he looked forward eagerly to the coming graduation finals.
Until those were passed there was always the chance of failing, of not being awarded full soldier status. Even accomplished students like Ranji had been known to crack under the pressure. No opprobrium attached to such individuals. They simply served the war effort in some other fashion more suited to their actual skills.
Ranji was calm and ready. He had no intention of failing. He could not fail. Not only did he want, like any healthy member of his species, to be a soldier: he had to be. He knew, sensed, felt, that he’d been born to it. To kill and chance being killed in the defense of civilization. To fight the enemy for real, not merely in simulations.
He always tried to approach the schooling simulations in that state of mind, striving to convince himself that he was not participating in simple tests but was actually engaging in combat against the monsters; killing for real, destroying them one after another to protect his civilization, his friends, his world.
Not to mention revenging his real mother and father.
Along with the parents of most of his friends, they had perished when the monsters had invaded and destroyed Houcilat. He, his brother, and his sister had been adopted and raised on Cossuut.
He had studied the history of the incident from an early age, and the details had long ago burned themselves into his memory. How the monsters had swept down without warning to ravage and obliterate every structure, every vestige of civilization in their lust for destruction. How they had seared the planet’s surface so badly that it could no longer support higher life. And most meritoriously, how a few shuttles had darted gallantly through the withering enemy fire to rescue what survivors they could, including himself and his siblings, and carry them to the safety of waiting starships and an eventual life of comparative peace on Cossuut.
His teachers had put off explaining his history to him until he was old enough to comprehend, if not to understand. Only when he asked for the information was it supplied. As he studied, and learned, he developed the determination which had characterized him throughout his adolescence.
He carried the horrific images of vanished Houcilat with him into every test, every trial. They added resolve to his efforts, enabling him to rise above even those of his mates, whose histories were no less tragic than his own.
There were twenty-five of them, the same number as in an actual commissioned attack squad. They had practiced together, trained together since childhood, defeating one school team after another. Now the culmination of those untiring efforts was at hand. Some of his friends were apprehensive, others uncertain. As for Ranji, he burned with anticipation.
Suddenly there were no more teams to defeat, no more bedazzled opponents to overwhelm and intimidate. Ranji and his friends had reached the summit of achievement: the planetary finals for their age cluster. Of the hundreds of squads that had entered in hopes of being declared undisputed strategic champions, only the team from Kizzmat Township stood in the way of Ranji and his friends. Mysterious, enigmatic Kizzmat, from over the Massmari mountains. Kizzmat, who in defeating one competitor after another had demonstrated skills and swiftness equal to Ranji’s own.
He was not worried. No matter their opponents’ record, Ranji and his friends never took them lightly. Such caution, along with many other talents, was the legacy of their class-level supervisor.
Instructor Kouuad was shorter than he seemed to be. Extensive combat experience and many honors gave him stature. Indeed, it was unusual for so experienced a soldier to be assigned to teach younger age levels. From the time they were old enough to understand such things, Ranji and his companions were conscious of their great luck in having Kouuad as their teacher.
Kouuad-iel-an’s field career had been brought to an early and untimely end by a severe injury which not even the best physicians had been able to completely repair. It was rumored that he had suffered the damage in hand-to-hand combat with one of the most vicious of the monsters themselves. His fellow teachers held him in some awe. The effect of his reputation on his pupils was profound.
It was mentioned that access to such an extraordinary instructor gave the trainees of Ciilpaan an unfair advantage over the others in their age cluster. All such protests were disallowed by the officials. It was the trainees who took the tests, not their teacher. As for Ranji and his friends, they were more than willing to credit Kouuad for much of their success.
“I warn you now,” the venerable soldier told them one morning when they had assembled for practice. “Hitherto you have run over, around, and through your opposition. But this is no mere township exercise approaching. These are your cluster’s planetary finals. Career success can be guaranteed in a few days. The trainees of Kizzmat know this. You need to ponder it as well.
“Remember that their record is as proud as yours. They will not go down easily. I have seen recordings of them in action. They are tougher and more resourceful than any group you have yet confronted.” Kouuad paced back and forth in front of the large-screen simulator.
“Do not let your successes go to your heads. Everything you have achieved in your lives to date is history. All your accomplishments lie in the past. Only this forthcoming confrontation matters. Everything else is dust. That is as true of real combat as of simulated.
“Realize, too, that even as I speak thus to you, they are receiving similar advice, they will be equally well prepared.” He stopped and smiled proudly, squinting through aged eyes that had seen too much death.
“You have met every challenge thrown at you. All that remains is your cluster championship for all Cossuut. Bear in mind that beyond this lies actual combat against the monsters. If you can advance that day in your minds and approach this competition as if actual warfare were involved, I think you will do well. Realize that you compete not for pri
de or prize, but to preserve civilization.”
Amusement suffused his expression.
“There is nothing wrong with winning a prize, though. The record of your performance, both individually and as a group, will become a matter of permanence. You want that record to be approving.”
“Don’t worry, honored teacher,” said an enthusiastic Bielon. “We intend to win.” Murmurs of agreement rose from those around her.
“What about the Kizzmatis’ methods?” came a question from the back row.
“Yes,” said another. “How do they differ from what we have encountered so far?”
“Strategically we do not know what to expect,” Kouuad explained. “Their tactics are unpredictable. That has been one of their greatest strengths, as it has been one of yours. They are famous improvisers, swift and decisive. Those of you who are squad leaders will therefore accrue additional burdens in the field. The rest of you must obey your leaders’ instructions implicitly. There will be no time for animated, lengthy tactical debate in this competition. Things will happen quickly. The Kizzmati are fast.” He stared hard at them. “I am counting on you to be faster.”
He was silent for a long moment. “These are the planetary finals. There will be no opprobrium attached to losing, no disgrace in defeat. To finish second among thousands is the grandest of accomplishments.”
“We’re not coming in second!” someone shouted from the back. Kouuad tilted his head slightly and smiled anew.
“You have already exceeded the achievements of the majority of your contemporaries. Despite the knowledge that the greatest prize of all is within your grasp, you should not forget that.” He checked his chronometer.
“I have nothing more to teach you. I suggest you all go home and try to get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow morning we leave for the competition site in the Joultasik foothills.”
A buzz of conversation rose from Ranji’s friends. Until then they had not been told where the competition was to be held. Secrecy insured that neither side would be able to spy in advance on the competition matrix and thus gain an unfair advantage over the competition.
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