The amusement of a few minutes earlier had drained from Hunt’s face as he listened. He had tried, Caldwell had tried, and Heller had tried, but still he couldn’t escape the lingering discomfort that perhaps they could have tried harder still. Now that Danchekker had voiced them, he recognized the same thoughts that he had been suppressing. "We should have gone with them," he said in a heavy voice. "We should have made Gregg bully them into it."
"I doubt that it would have made any difference," Danchekker said. "Couldn’t you see that Garuth had a personal score to settle with Broghuilio? He didn’t want anybody else involved as a matter of principle. Calazar knew it too. Nothing we could have said would have made any difference."
"I guess you’re right." Hunt sighed. He looked toward Taurus again, stared at it for a while, then suddenly snapped out of his reverie and looked from side to side at the others. "It’s getting cold," he said. "Let’s go inside and get some coffee."
They turned and began walking slowly back across the apron toward the mess hall.
Many light-years away, the Shapieron slipped quietly out of orbit above Thurien. For a little over a day VISAR tracked it to beyond the Gistar system and monitored its transfer through h-space to a point just outside JEVEX’s zone of control on the fringe of the Jevlenese star system. The power and control beams to the two unmanned decoy ships sent with it were promptly jammed, and while they drifted helplessly on the edge of JEVEX-space, the Shapieron continued moving inward and vanished from the view of VISAR’s instruments into the cloak of impenetrabifity that surrounded the enemy star.
Chapter Thirty
The construction floating in space was in the form of a hollow square. It measured over five hundred miles along a side. From each of its corners a bar, twenty miles thick, extended diagonally inward to support the two-hundred-mile-diameter sphere held in the center. The surfaces of the outer square bristled with angular protuberances, sections of ribbing, and domed superstructures, all etched harshly in black and shades of metallic gray, and immense windings girded parts of the central sphere and its supporting members. Receding away into space behind it, a line of identical objects spaced at two-thousand-mile intervals diminished in size with distance until they were lost in the background of stars.
Imares Broghuilio, formerly Premier of the Jevlenese faction of Thurien and now Overlord of the recently proclaimed Independent Protectorate of Jevlenese Worlds, stood in his black Supreme Military Commander’s uniform, his arms folded across his chest, and scowled out at the scene from inside a blisterdome on the hull of a spacecraft riding several thousand miles off. Low to one side, the dark, rugged sphere of the planet Uttan hung as a crescent against the blackness, appearing the size of a tennis ball held at arm’s length. Wylott and a number of generals from various commands of the Jevlenese military were standing behind him with Estordu and a handful of civilian advisors. To one side, not looking very happy, were Niels Sverenssen and Feylon Turl, technical coordinator of the quadriflexor construction program.
Broghuilio waved an arm at the scene outside. "We have been forced to revise our timetables just as drastically and in just as little time," he said curtly, glaring at Turl. "I expect you to do at least as well."
"But engineering on this scale can’t be accelerated by that kind of factor simply by ordering it to be," Turl protested. "We are still short by fifty units. It will take two years at least, even with round-the-clock shifts in all critical-"
"Two years is unacceptable," Broghuillo said flatly. "I’ve given you our requirement, and I want your confirmation, today, that it will be met as stipulated. Tell me what can be done for a change. The Protectorate is now operating on a war economy, and whatever resources are needed will be made available."
"It isn’t simply a question of production resources," Turl insisted. "The power to transfer that number of quadriflexors to the target won’t be available for two years. Crallort’s latest estimates show that-"
"Crallort has been removed," Broghuilio informed him. "That office is now under military control. The generator battery will be expanded under an emergency program that is already in effect, and the power requirement will be met as stipulated."
"I-" Turl began, but Broghuilio cut him off with an impatient motion of his hand.
"You have until twenty-four hours from now to discuss the revisions with your staff. I shall expect you at the Directorate of Strategic Planning on Jevlen at that time to report. I will not expect to hear lame excuses. Do I make myself understood?"
"Yes, Excellency," Turl mumbled.
Subvocally Broghuilio instructed JEVEX to remind him later in the day to review possible candidates for Turl’s replacement at Uttan, then turned his eyes contemptuously toward Sverenssen. "And it appears that my ‘able lieutenant’ who was supposed to have had the situation on Earth ‘well under control’ is equally incompetent," he sneered. "Well, what have you been able to find out? How did the Thuriens manage to communicate with Terrans right under your noses? Where is their facility located? What is your plan to eliminate it? How did they penetrate your operation? Who has been betraying it? I hope you have good answers, Sverenssen."
"I must protest," Sverenssen said in a shocked voice. "Yes, I admit that the Thuriens did establish a link somehow. But the accusation that we have allowed our operation to be penetrated is without foundation. There is no evidence to-"
"Then you are either blind or stupid!" Broghuilio spat. "I was there, in Thurios. You were not. I tell you they knew everything. The Terrans must have turned half the imbeciles in your organization and had them working against us for years. How long have they had a link on Earth direct into VISAR?"
"We. . . . have not been able to ascertain that yet, Excellency," Sverenssen admitted.
"Obviously since long before they started anything on Farside," Broghuilio said. "The whole Bruno operation was a faзade to fool you and keep you occupied, and you swallowed every inch of it." He screwed up his face and mimicked a fawning tone. "‘We have gained complete control, Excellency,’ I was told. Pah!" Broghuilio slammed a fist into his other palm. "Control! They were manipulating you like a puppet. They probably have been for years. Overlord of Earth? You’d be a laughingstock trying to govern a kindergarten." Sverenssen paled, and his jaw strained, but he said nothing.
Broghuilio raised his arms in front of the rest of the company as if inviting them to witness his predicament. "You see what I have to contend with-imbecile engineers and imbecile agents. And what of you? Clearly the enemy will not sit idly by and do nothing while we complete our preparations. But we are told that it will take two years. Thus we have a problem situation that demands some form of action now, while we retain the initiative. What are your plans?"
Some of the generals looked uncertainly at one another. Eventually Wylott replied hesitantly, "We are still analyzing the latest developments. The situation calls for a complete revision of every-"
"Never mind your academic analyses and evaluations. Do you have firm plans drawn up for offensive action, now , to secure our position while the quadriflexor program is being completed?"
"No, but we’ve never-"
"The general does not have a plan," Broghuilio told the rest of them. "You see-on all sides I have to deal with imbeciles. But fortunately for all of us, I do have a plan. Our weapons production program here at Uttan has begun showing results, has it not? We have ships, armaments, and sufficient generating capacity to transfer them to Gistar at once, while the Thuriens have nothing. It is a time for boldness."
Wylott seemed worried. "That is not the way we have always intended," he said. "Our plans have never included launching an unprovoked assault on Thurien. The weapons were to be used against the Cerians. We would find it hard to justify such an action to the people. It would not be popular."
"Did I say anything about attacking Thurien?" Broghuillo asked. "Can you conceive of no methods other than brute force and clumsiness? Have you no sense of subtlety?" He turned his head to addre
ss all present. "War is as much a matter of psychology as it is of weapons, and in particular of understanding the psychology of one’s enemy. Study the history of Earth, or even of Minerva. Many great victories have been won by seizing an opportune psychological moment And such a moment presents itself to us now."
"What are you proposing?" Estordu asked uneasily. "That we might intimidate Thurien into submission?"
Broghuilio looked at him in surprise and with unconcealed approval. "For a scientist you are thinking quickly for once," he said. He raised his voice. "You hear? The scientist is thinking more like a general than any of you. The Thuriens have no taste for war, nor even any concept of it. At this moment they believe that we have retreated into a shell and will not trouble them for a long time to come. They feel secure for the time being, and that is why they are vulnerable."
He strode slowly to one side of the dome and stared out at the distant ball of Uttan for a few seconds. Then he came back to the center and resumed, "I will tell you what the Thuriens are thinking at this moment. They realize that we present a threat which they do not have the stomach to face, but which the Terrans do. On the other hand they possess the technology necessary to counter that threat, whereas the Terrans do not. So what will be their obvious strategy?"
Wylott was beginning to nod slowly. "To arm and equip the Terrans as proxy troops," he said. "Thurien will enlist Earth to fight on its behalf."
"Exactly!" Broghuilio exclaimed. "But Earth is demilitarized and not competent to match us technically anyway, and at this moment the Thuriens have nothing to arm them with." He looked around with a triumphant glint in his eyes. "In other words their solution will require time. But we do not need time because right now we have something, and they have nothing. Our forces might be small compared to what they will be in times to come, but that situation gives us a ratio of something to zero, which equates to infinite superiority. That advantage will not exist indefinitely, and it will never again be in our favor to the extent that it is now. And that is why the time to act is now , and not later."
Wylott’s eyes gleamed as he began to see what Broghuillo was driving at. "With self-powered ships we can send a task force in and issue an ultimatum to the Thuriens to place VISAR under our control," he said. "Being Ganymeans, they will have no choice. Then they’d be helpless, and we would assume full control of the combined empires of JEVEX and VISAR."
"And the Terrans will be deprived of their armorers," Broghullb completed. "In two years they could never hope to match us without the Thuriens. Thus we will have bought the time we need to complete our preparations for dealing with Earth, and for neutralizing Thurien permanently." He turned to confront Wylott squarely, folded his arms across his chest, and stuck out his chin. "That, General, is the plan-my plan."
"A stroke of genius," Wylott declared. A chorus of murmurs from the ranks behind endorsed the statement. "We will commence detailed preparations at once."
"See to it," Broghuilio ordered. He turned and glowered at Sverenssen. "And you, if you think you have the ability to redeem yourself, go back to Earth. I want every one of the traitors in your organization uncovered, tracked down, and dealt with. All except Rank B2 and above. Those are to be held while we arrange a landing to bring them back to Jevlen. I will deal with them personally." His voice fell to an ominous growl, and his eyes smoldered. "And if you fail in this, Sverenssen, you will certainly be brought back, even if I have to come physically to Earth myself to do it."
Chapter Thirty-One
Several days went by without news from the Shapieron. VISAR analyzed all the available data on the design of JEVEX and gave ZORAC a five-percent chance of electronically lock-picking its way through the layers of security checks and access restrictions protecting the enemy system. The problem was that JEVEX’s Ganymean-designed molecular circuits worked at subnanosecond speeds, enabling an enormous amount of self-checking to be interleaved with its regular operations. The odds were overwhelming that any chink in JEVEX’s armor that ZORAC managed to slip a wedge into would be detected and closed before VISAR could be brought in to drive the wedge home. In other words JEVEX could scan its own internal processes too rapidly, or as Hunt put it to Caldwell, "It’s got too much instant-to-instant awareness of what’s going on inside itself. If we could distract its attention somehow, even for a few seconds at the speeds those machines work at, ZORAC might be able to neutralize the jamming system and let VISAR in." But how could they distract JEVEX when the only channel they had to it was through ZORAC, and ZORAC couldn’t get in until JEVEX had been distracted?
And then VISAR reported a series of gravitational disturbances outside Gistar’s planetary system, followed by a steady accumulation of objects that seemed to be ships of some kind being transferred through from somewhere. Shortly afterward, the objects began moving toward Thurien. VISAR could detect no h-grid power or control beams and was unable to check their progress. They were self-powered, heavily armed Jevlenese war vessels, and there were fifty of them. As they fanned out to maneuver into positions around Thurien, JEVEX reopened contact briefly with VISAR to deliver the Jevlenese ultimatum: the Thuriens had forty-eight hours to place their entire world-system under Jevlenese control. If at the end of that period they had not agreed, obliteration of Thurien cities one at a time would commence, starting with Vranix. Those were the terms. There was nothing to discuss.
The atmosphere inside the Government Center at Thurios was strained and tense. All of the Terran group from McClusky were present with Calazar, Showm, and a selection of engineering and technical experts that included Eesyan’s deputy, Morizal. They were already six hours into the ultimatum period.
"But there must be something you can do," Caldwell protested, stamping backward and forward across the center of the room in frustration. "Couldn’t you try using remote-controlled ships to ram them? Couldn’t VISAR make a few black holes to suck them into or something? There has to be a way."
"I agree," Showm said, looking at Calazar. "We should try. I know it’s distasteful, but the Jevlenese have made the rules. Have you considered the alternatives?"
"They could pick off ramships long before they even got near," Morizal said. "And they could detect a black hole forming and evade it long before it could trap them. And even then you could only hope to get a few at the most. The rest would incinerate Thurien then and there without waiting for the deadline."
"And besides, that’s not the way," Calazar said at last, throwing up his hands. "Ganymeans have never sought solutions by war or violence. I couldn’t condone anything like that. We will not descend to the level of Jevlenese barbarism."
"You’ve never faced this kind of threat before," Karen Heller pointed out. "What other way is there to meet it?"
"She’s right," Showm said. "The Jevlenese force is not large. There’s a good chance that it’s all they possess right now. Six months from now that could change. Earth’s logic is harsh, but nevertheless realistic in this kind of situation: losing some people now could buy the time to save many more later. It’s a lesson they have learned, and we may have to as well."
"It’s not the way," Calazar said again. "You’ve seen Earth’s history. That kind of logic always leads to escalation without limits. It’s insane. I won’t allow us to start down that road."
"Broghuilio is insane," Showm insisted. "There’s no other way."
"There must be. We need time to consider."
"We don’t have any time."
A heavy silence descended. On one side of the room, Hunt caught Lyn’s eye and shrugged hopelessly. She raised her eyebrows and sighed. There was nothing to say. The situation didn’t look good. A short distance away Danchekker was becoming restless. He removed his spectacles, squinted through them while he twisted them first this way and then that in front of his face, then replaced them and began pinching his nose with his thumb and forefinger. Something was going through his mind. Hunt watched him curiously and waited.
"Suppose . . ." Danchekker began
, thought for a second longer, then swung his head toward Calazar and Morizal. "Suppose we could induce the Jevlenese to postpone their offensive intentions and switch their force to the defensive . . . in other words take it back to Jevlen," he said. "That would gain us some time."
Calazar looked at him, puzzled. "Why should they do that? To defend against what? We have nothing to threaten any attack against them with, and neither have you."
"Agreed," Danchekker said. "But perhaps there is a way in which we could persuade them that we do." The Ganymeans stared back at him nonplussed. He explained, "Lyn and Vic were talking recently about an idea to simulate an all-out assault on Jevlen inside VISAR and inject it into JEVEX, assuming ZORAC gains access of course. And by suitably manipulating JEVEX’s internal records, we could, perhaps, then instill in JEVEX the conviction that the existence of such forces was consistent with what it has been observing for years. You see my point? Such a ruse might create enough confusion inside the Jevlenese camp for them to withdraw their forces. And given a sufficient level of uncertainty, they would probably not risk firing upon Thurien until they had determined the true situation. What we would do then I have no idea, but it would at least gain us some respite from the current predicament."
Giant's Star g-3 Page 27