“So, despite all your promises and assurances—that human technology was inferior and yours was far more advanced—it turns out that they have the better technology.” Graagkhruud seemed pleased with himself, vindicated, as he said it.
An accusation scooped from the useless slurry of your own speciate insecurity, you impetuous and recidivistic predator. “Their technology is not better than ours, but it is far more diverse. But that was not what has tipped the balance this day.”
First Voice spoke before Graagkhruud could manage to respond. “Then what has, Speaker Kut?”
“Honored First Voice, the humans make war far more frequently than the Arat Kur. And, if my surmise is correct, in far more ways than either of us. And while the human megacorporations did provide us with complete data on the planet’s warfighting equipment, they were ill-suited to providing us with a comprehensive compendium of its operational alternatives. Besides, many of the tactics being employed by the humans are either wholly unprecedented, or being expressed in unique combinations that defy any simple understanding drawn from historical precedents.”
“We have a saying,” Caine offered quietly, “that general staffs are always preparing to fight the last war, not the next one.”
Graagkhruud snarled. “The simple truth is that the brilliant Arat Kur cannot think as quickly as warriors must.”
“Darzhee Kut’s insight and patience are praiseworthy,” Hu’urs Khraam inserted into the uncomfortable silence, and Graagkhruud either missed or ignored the implied rebuke, “but now I must ask that you allow him to attend to my question. Was I rash in rejecting the human offer of negotiation?”
“Not rash, Esteemed Hu’urs Khraam, but we may be running out of time. We might still have enough PDF and orbital interdiction left to protect us here, but the humans’ actions increasingly erode the former and overtax the latter. We might be able to hold out until our counterattacking flotilla returns, which would double our interdiction capability. However, if the flotilla does not triumph against the human fleet, then our only remaining relief is our Belt Fleet, and they will not arrive in time to salvage the situation.”
Hu’urs Khraam settled into his couch. “So, logically, we should await the outcome of the current fleet battle. If we prevail, as we should, we will still hold the upper hand.”
Riordan shook his head. “That is why my side will not wait for the outcome of that battle. If we lose there, we have lost our only reasonable hope of permanently regaining control in either Java, or in space. My side must use its present advantage, meaning that if you do not negotiate now, they will destroy your ground forces—and much of Indonesia—while they still may.”
First Voice rose up. “Hu’urs Khraam, Riordan’s analysis is without error. But whereas he intends it to scare you into negotiation, I assert it should fix our resolve to strike the humans first.”
“First Voice of the First Family, we agreed not to use nuclear weapons against—”
“You will hear me. We still have an undamaged half-fleet in orbit. The humans cannot strike at those ships yet, so we may still win the war swiftly and decisively by destroying five of their greatest cities and bloc capitols with a deluge of kinetic kill devices. Let us say New York, Beijing, Tokyo, Berlin, Moscow. The moment after this is achieved, we send the ultimatum we should have sent when we first arrived: capitulate or die by the billions. The humans will not resist further. Their cities would be ash by the time their fleet arrives, should it be so fortunate as to win the day against your ships.”
Graagkhruud’s enthusiasm was palpable. “This is plain truth and the path to victory. And if the humans threaten to overwhelm us here while this is transpiring, it is of no consequence.”
“Indeed? You so gladly accept death?”
“Spoken like the grubber you are. Of course I do not welcome death. I merely say we must fight as warriors should: on the attack, giving no quarter, using all weapons against any opponents.”
“You propose to slaughter them all, including noncombatants and innocents?”
“It would be a slaughter if there were any noncombatants or innocents, if we struck humans down where they crouched in supplication. But the humans do not know this posture nor this behavior. They are all combatants. Consequently, they have dug the den in which they must live. They must all be slain until they all capitulate. And if we move forth from our compounds using incendiary weapons, leveling those areas of the cities we do not control, even local resistance will quickly come to an end.” He turned toward Caine, tongue flicking. “Do you deny it, liar?”
Riordan looked up when the Hkh’Rkh addressed him as “liar.” The difference in their size and mass made the human’s response either comical or dangerously insane. “Do you challenge me, First Fist?”
Graagkhruud’s tongue whipped out and about like a stabbed snake. He huffed once in his chest. “You flatter yourself, s’fet. You are not a being and so, have no honor, despite the way Yaargraukh addresses you and despite First Voice’s generous toleration of that. I would smear my name and my family to even acknowledge you.”
Caine smiled and for some reason, Darzhee Kut found that expression more fearful than anything he had ever seen on the long face of any Hkh’Rkh. “How fortunate for you that I may not be Challenged, or make Challenge, Graagkhruud.”
The Hkh’Rkh leapt toward him, claws up.
Hu’urs Khraam shrilled. “Predator, you would slay an ambassador? Here, in our presence, without consulting us?” First Voice restrained First Fist as Hu’urs Khraam settled down in his couch again, but continued in the same tone. “This impetuosity, this dance your species does with death, it is not just in your actions of the moment. It is also in these plans you speak of now.”
First Voice reared up. “These ‘impetuous’ plans will win this war.”
“No. They will win this battle—but in doing so, will most certainly lose the war. For when the Custodians learn what you would have us do here, they will ban our races from space. Do not mistake me, First Voice. I harbor no tender feelings for the humans. You may find, when you know us better, that we have stronger and longer reasons to loathe humans than you ever will. But that does not change the fact that so far as we know, we must still answer to the Custodians.” Only Darzhee Kut saw that Caine’s eyes became suddenly sharp.
“Besides,” Darzhee hastily interjected, “whose fault is it that we teeter on this unseen brink? The humans’? Did they invade our systems?”
“Not yet,” amended Graagkhruud.
“And perhaps they never would have. Now, we will never know. But if they had, would they have attacked our homeworld?” Darzhee Kut turned to face his leader. “You are right to fear the Dornaani, Esteemed Hu’urs Khraam, but also fear what this deed would make us. Worse than the humans. And remember this—and you answer too, First Voice. If we do this, and if we then leave any of the humans alive, anywhere, what do you think they will do?”
Yaargraukh reared back. “If we take this path, and leave any humans alive, they will hunt our races down until we are no more. They will not forgive, they will not forget, they will not stop. Darzhee Kut is right: if we take this step, it is not the last leap we take into the darkness. It is but the first plunge into a campaign of unremitting genocide—and if we do not finish the atrocity we begin, they will surely finish us.”
“Just so,” affirmed Darzhee Kut. “The humans will hunt us down until they have made our homerock magma and ashes. And to prevent them from doing so, we would need to hunt them down on all their other worlds. So, once we are done here, let us also be resolved to lay waste to Alpha Centauri, to Epsilon Indi, to Delta Pavonis, to Beta Hydri, Zeta Tucanae, and p-Eridani, for you will need to destroy them all, one by one, if you are to finish the atrocity you would start.”
Yaargraukh’s voice was grim. “As if the Dornaani would let us.”
First Voice’s tone was measured, careful. “The Dornaani are not here, have not come. You start at shadows that your own mind has
conjured, Advocate.”
“Do I, First Voice? Tell me, if the Dornaani have not been exterminated, can they allow this—and us—to stand?”
Darzhee Kut clicked his claws, signaling an amplification of Yaargraukh’s point. “First Voice, do not mistake Dornaani calm for indecisiveness. They will not hesitate to use force. They fought horrible wars before any of us saw the heavens as something other than a place of myths and gods. They will not abide what you are contemplating.”
“There may be none left to object,” observed First Voice, “if the Ktorans’ war against them has gone as planned.”
Yaargraukh reared up. “Are you willing to make that wager, First Voice of the First Family? And what do we gain even if you win it? A commitment to destroy green worlds and a whole race in a war that even now ceases to have any honor in it? And if you lose the wager? Do you wish to be known as the Hkhi whose gamble resulted in our permanent expulsion, even quarantine, from contact with other races? And if we cannot accept such a fate placidly, what then might the Dornaani feel compelled to do? Exterminate us?”
Hu’urs Khraam's voice was quiet. “No. They will—change—you.”
The Hkh’Rkh crests all rose. First Voice growled. “What do you mean?”
The First Delegate raised a didactic claw. “The Dornaani would not initiate genocide; they have sworn an oath against it. But altering your species through selective and successive retroviruses, foods that are engineered to rebalance your hormones, asymptomatic epidemics that, initially unnoticed, sterilize ninety percent of your females. These passive controls they would indeed use.”
Yaargraukh turned to First Voice. “And this risk is worth the profit and glory of a race exterminated from orbit without honor, half a dozen ruined worlds, and no promise of new lands? What nature of gamble is this, First Voice?”
“Then what is to be done?” Graagkhruud asked.
Yaargraukh let the phlegm roll long and contemptuous in his nostrils. “Fight and die, First Fist. Or leave. The choice is yours, and I am indifferent to your deliberations. I will take my place among the defenders, for I have no more counsel to offer. By your leave, First Voice.” Who bobbed once, curtly. Yaargraukh turned and left.
Graagkhruud’s chest was a sustained rumble. “His insolence warrants death.”
First Voice looked after him. “And his courage and honesty earns honor. We will let events help us decide which it should be, for I cannot decree both. But you may point out to him that a creature with great honor and honesty must always be ready to serve the First Voice in any way required, and such readiness is now paramount. And if he fails in his oaths, he must be ready to answer for that failure, to accept any Challenge. Any Challenge, from any Challenger—First Fist.” First Voice looked at Graagkhruud, long and silently.
Who lowered his eyes and put his clenched fist low on his barrellike chest. “Your vassal hears and understands, suzerain.” Graagkhruud hunch-bowed himself out of the command center.
Darzhee Kut buzzed mildly. “So what is decided?”
Hu’urs Khraam's claws snipped the air restively. “Even though the magma rises around us, I am reluctant to contemplate withdrawal. But—”
First Voice reared up to his full 2.2 meters. “The Hkh’Rkh do not flee. We fight until we win or die.”
“And if an honorable withdrawal is negotiated?”
“Let that be sought and crafted by creatures who find no inherent contradiction in linking the word ‘honorable’ with ‘withdrawal.’” First Voice leaned down, warbling phlegm. “But know that if an ‘ally’ once abandons us, we will neither forget, nor forgive, it. I leave to inspect our defenses. I return soon.” He loped out, ears flattened and quivering. His retinue was a broad, swaggering wake behind him.
The sensor specialist signaled he had an update. Urzueth Ragh glanced at it, then chattered, “Esteemed Hu’urs Khraam, the enemy continue launching air vehicles. Their transatmospheric interceptors are climbing up beyond twenty-five kilometers, but their ascent is atypically slow.”
“That’s because they’re not attacking—yet.”
Darzhee Kut and the other Arat Kur cadre turned to look at Caine. Hu’urs Khraam bobbed toward him. “I invite your explanation, Speaker Riordan. Why would your commanders launch a wave of interceptors if they do not mean to assault our ships in orbit?”
Darzhee Kut recognized Caine’s smile as being one which, paradoxically, did not signify either happiness or amusement. “Oh, if the military commanders were in charge of this launch, I’m sure they’d be filling your hulls with nukes by now. No, this is a politically managed maneuver.”
“To what end?”
“To give you enough time to realize that although you are not in immediate danger, the threats are rapidly increasing. And to give them an opportunity to discover whether, in the face of those threats, you will react aggressively or comply.”
“Comply?” mused Hu’urs Khraam.
Darzhee Kut understood. “Comply with the warning the humans issued at the end of their last communiqué: ‘if you attempt orbital interdiction against any of our air units, we will launch a nuclear attack directly against your two major compounds in Jakarta and Surabaja.’”
Urzueth Ragh looked at him. “So do the humans expect us to allow their interceptors to continue to climb toward orbit?”
Darzhee Kut returned Urzueth’s stare. “Are we prepared to interdict one hundred percent of the nuclear weapons they would launch if we do not?”
Hu’urs Khraam looked at them both, then allowed chitinous covers to close over his eyes. Darzhee Kut edged closer to the Arat Kur who had, over these weeks, become more his mentor than his superior. “Revered Hu’urs Khraam, if at this time we cannot act, perhaps this is the right moment to talk…”
Chapter Forty-Seven
Near the Presidential Palace compound, Jakarta, Earth
Trevor leaned back so he could see up through the hole in the roof several stories above. Just before they had reached this building—their jumpoff point for the final attack—the rear fuselage of an intercepted rocket had cut a straight shaft through it, from roof to atrium. The jagged, impromptu skylight now showed a darkening, low cloudbank. But still no sign of rain. Or of more airbursting nukes.
Tygg approached, looked up as well. “Is it almost time?”
“Almost. Let’s pull Gavin in from overwatch.”
“Right. And I’ll send one of my blokes to get the electronics out of the Faraday cage.”
Trevor nodded. “Yeah, might as well. If we see any more nukes, they’re going to be in our laps, not high overhead.”
“There’s a cheery thought, mate. I’m off.”
As Tygg headed down to the basement, Trevor walked to the front of the building, found the chief crouched in the same concealed position he’d been in since entering the building. “What’s the good word, Stosh?”
“All quiet on the Western Front.”
“Winfield?”
“Still no sign of him. Don’t worry. He’s a tough kid from Watts.”
“Stosh, Jake Winfields’ from Greenwich, Connecticut.”
“Well, his grandmother—or grandfather, or someone—still lives in Watts. And he visited them. Once. Well, he wanted to, anyway.”
Trevor smiled. “Stosh, you are insane.”
“I am inspired. They are frequently confused.”
Trevor nodded in the direction of Harmoni Square. “What else can you tell me?”
“No cell chatter since our big bright white ones went off at twelve o’clock high. Fried the net, I’m guessing. A few unattached insurgents skulking around, giving the Roach motel a wide berth.”
“And the Arat Kur security forces?”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say they’d left when no one was looking.”
“No more Hkh’Rkh search-and-destroy squads, either?”
“Not since Gavin introduced the last bunch of Sloths to the wonders of long-range marksmanship.”
John
Gavin had caught the Hkh’Rkh elites flatfooted with the Remington assault gun, ran them straight into Stosh and Tygg’s combined field of fire. Trevor had wanted to avoid an engagement, but the Hkh’Rkh NCO had evidently arrived at the same conclusion that Trevor had come to an hour earlier. That this particular building was an ideal spot for an OP and multiple sniper nests. Unfortunately, as Stosh pointed out later, multiple tenancy was strictly prohibited within the city limits and the human commandos had enforced that exclusionary law with a decisive application of firepower. “Stosh,” Trevor said quietly, “tell our local recruits we’re ready to move. Should be getting the go signal for the final attack any minute, now.”
“Bringing news like that, they’ll probably try to kiss me.”
Trevor stared at the homely SEAL. “Not a chance, chief.”
“Woe is me, unwanted and unloved. Any other heartbreaking orders?”
“Yeah. Tell the locals who laid the demo charges that they need to talk us through the triggering sequence again.”
“How hard can it be, Skipper? We press the buttons. The charges they laid in a nice straight row go off one after the other, blowing open a path from our front door right into the Roach motel.”
“Simple in concept, Stosh, but I want to get the timing exactly right. And I want them to run their remote circuit-test of the charges that the inside agents placed along the compound’s inner walls. If the Arat Kur or Hkh’Rkh found and removed them, I want to know that before we start running up our own highway of destruction—only to find ourselves bouncing off the still-intact compound walls.”
“Yeah, that wouldn’t be much fun. I’ll send the fireworks boys up on the double.”
Trevor squinted at the closest enemy hardpoint, only eighty meters away, brooding outward into Majahapit Street from the gutted Chamber of Commerce building. I watch you and, maybe, you watch me. Or maybe you figure that since this building is quiet, your hit-squad cleared at least this much turf for you. He checked his watch. Ten minutes until their final assault on the west perimeter was to get the “go-no go” signal. That presumed, of course, that the second-hand messaging remained accurate. The word had come via a runner from another large mob moving slowly north along streets paralleling Merdeka square on the east, who had in turn received it from one of the tunnel rats who were manning the fiber-com net under the streets somewhere to the north. And today, in Jakarta, that was about as high-quality a message a anyone was going to get.
Trial by Fire - eARC Page 54