Archier was not sure what it would be like to confront a pig admiral. There was an ingrained protocol for dealing with animals. He did not go to the boarding bay to meet the gig, as he might normally have done, but waited in his office for the party to come to him.
It was larger than he had expected: about twenty animals and humans, though few of the latter. Half a dozen of them trotted into his office, and all of them were four-footed.
He had not realized earlier that Admiral Brusspert was a sow. Her plump danging udders were evidence that she had littered recently. Archier noted the fact only in passing. It was swallowed up in his general shock.
"Admiral," she announced with a toss of her snout, "permit me to introduce Imperial Council Member Hiroshamak."
Standing beside her was indeed someone in a Council Member's robe, but instead of hanging with loose dignity from a pair of shoulders, it had been cut and shaped so as to drape upon the broad back of a quadruped.
Imperial Council Member Hiroshamak, also, was a pig.
Archier swayed, then fell back into his chair. "So the Council has been overthrown," he gasped softly. "Revolution!"
"Do not distress yourself, Admiral," Hiroshamak said in gruff but resonant tones. "The Council still rules: there has been no revolution, at least not of the kind you mean. If you are truly loyal to the Empire, you should be pleased by the turn of events."
He started to pace up and down. Archier could not help but notice the personal charisma of the animal, the sense of purpose and restless energy. "Let me put this to you, Admiral. For a long time now it has mainly been we pigs who have been propping up the Empire. To put it bluntly, we are more capable than other animals—just as capable as humans, in fact. Implanted intelligence works particularly well with us. But unlike humans, we have not lost interest in the well-being of the Empire. We have not become, if you don't mind me saying so, effete, incompetent and short-sighted. In addition, we breed at a healthy rate and so there are plenty of us! You will grant that all this is so."
"Oh yes," Archier said faintly. "My pigs have always been most efficient. And resourceful."
"I'm glad you agree. The truth is that again and again the senior pig administrators in the civil service have had to rescue the Imperial Council from the consequences of its own bungling. Left to its own devices, it would have wrecked the Empire on a dozen occasions over the past few years. Well, things have simply been going from bad to worse. The present crisis finally convinced us that matters can no longer be left to human ineptness. We have found it necessary to act— with a small measure of illegality, regrettably, but that has been kept to a minimum . . . Not to put too fine a point on it, the entire membership of the Imperial Council has been 'persuaded' to resign. A new Council has been appointed, consisting entirely of pigs. Like myself, they are mostly drawn from the higher ranks of the civil service."
"Second class," Archier muttered in bewilderment. "You are second-class citizens. It isn't possible ..."
"Not any longer. We have introduced a second innovation. Since the pigs are now to play such a prominent part in the affairs of the Empire, they have been elevated to first-class citizenship alongside humans. We are now equals in law.
"If you think about it," the pig continued as Archier struggled to absorb what he was being said to him, "I'm sure you'll realize it's the only way. Only forthright measures will restore the Empire's fortunes, and the simple fact is that humans have become too accustomed to hesitancy and weakness. Let me give you some idea of the programme we pigs have adopted."
Hiroshamak raised a trotter in the air and counted off points with it. "One: recalcitrant or tax-defaulting worlds to be destroyed promptly and without warning as an example to others. Two: all striking robots to be exterminated and a new class, with lower intelligence and no political aspirations, to be manufactured. These will begin work immediately on replacement war fleets to bring Star Force up to strength. Three: human immigration into Diadem to be forcibly increased for work in laboratories or where creative effort is required, also to supplement the robot labour force if the new brand of robot proves too low-grade for skilled work. These new immigrants will have no citizenship rights at all to begin with. They will have to earn them. That way they can be stopped from running out on us."
"But that would make them slaves!" Archier protested.
"Slave, slave! It's only a word. This attitude of yours is exactly what's been wrong with our political position up until now. These measures are necessary, but I grant it takes a certain amount of determination to apply them. That is what humans appear to lack."
"But there's a reason why animals were made second-class citizens," Archier objected earnestly. "Animals don't have creative minds!"
"I acknowledge that," Hiroshamak said instantly, "but it doesn't matter a damn! Governing an Empire doesn't call for creativity—it was a misconception ever to think that it does. Shrewdness, cunning and self-confidence are what's needed. We pigs have proved ourselves there."
"Society needs creativity," Archier insisted. "It's what keeps it evolving."
"Of course. Who doubts it? And that's exactly the role we see humans filling in the new dispensation. Creative thought— art, science, the things they are good at. And we'll take care of practical affairs."
Admiral Brusspert interrupted him enthusiastically. Only now did Archier spot the feminine difference in her voice tone. It never was very noticeable in porcines. "Absolutely right, Council Member," she said. "Pigs make the right decisions! The weasels, for instance—tell him about that!"
'' Weasels?'' Archier enquired.
"Guard!" Hiroshamak snapped in "answer. "Get in here sharpish!"
Into the room, walking on its hind legs, came a five-foot stoat in military accoutrement. The scangun at its waist was adapted to fit its paw. Its backpack, breathing kit and communicator made it look even more predatory.
"He's had his inhibitor removed," Hiroshamak said.
Now Archier was not merely shocked. He was aghast. Of all the mammals in the commonalty, there was one family that was never used in war: the weasel family, including stoats, polecats, wolverines and fishers. Tigers and bears were as nothing to the mad ferocity of these creatures. They were the most gifted murder machines nature had devised, restricted only by their size—wolverines and fishers, in fact, would unhesitatingly attack and kill anything they came across, no matter how large. That was why intelligent weasels were given additional implants to repress their savage urges, and why wolverines and fishers were very rarely made intelligent at all.
"You are seeing the backbone of the future Drop Commando," Hiroshamak informed Archier. "Tell him how you feel without the inhibitor, guard."
Archier could almost see the stoat smile. "Much better, sir. Much sharper. And more ready to serve the Empire, sir, of course."
"All right, guard. That will do. Wait outside."
"The old Council never need bodyguards," Archier remarked when the predator had gone.
"Oh, I don't suppose we will when things have settled down."
"There's something I must ask you." Archier swallowed. "Are you Biotists? You must be, since you want to dethrone man from his superior position—"
"No, no, we are not Biotists." Hiroshamak and Brusspert both shook their heads emphatically. "It was partly to stop the Biotists taking over that we acted as we did! Like them, we assert that the Empire belongs to all mammals, not merely to humans. But we shall never recommence gene mixing. The species should stay separate. It's the best way of standardising intelligence." Hiroshamak's eyes twinkled. "Besides, we like being pigs!"
"What happened to Admiral Tirexier?" Archier asked suddenly, with a bite in Kis voice."
"Ah yes. You force me to a delicate matter," Hiroshamak replied after a pause. "A new High Command is being organised. The new command structure is to consist entirely of pigs, and affects all ranks from admiral up. That means, Admiral Archier, that you are being retired from active service as an admiral. You
will retain the rank of Admiral retired, of course, and you will continue to serve in the fleet in a lower acting capacity. Your Fire Command Officer Gruwert is being promoted in your place. You have always commended his initiative."
A squeal of delight sounded behind Archier. It came from Gruwert, who together with others of the Command Staff had been standing silently listening to the exchange.
"Yes, I have," whispered Archier. "Indeed I have."
Carefully he removed his admiral's ceremonial hat, with its bell-shaped crown, its glittering feathers, and placed it on his desk.
My fleet, he thought agonisedly. My beautiful Ten-Fleet.
But of course it was not his fleet, and never had been. It was the Empire's, and now the Empire belonged to the pigs.
Gruwert came trotting forward, snuffing the air. "No hard feelings, Archier old chap? It's all for -the best, you know. Now if you don't mind, I'd like you to get out of my office. It's time to start doing things properly!"
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
At last Admiral Gruwert felt he had a proper outlet for his energies. He was enjoying his new role immensely.
Lifting his snout from the trough of choice delicacies he had installed in his office, he returned his attention to his duties.
The fleet was very nearly restored to operational status and' was heading at top speed for Axaline Sector, the region it had been forced to quit when summoned to Escoria. Imperial Council Member Hiroshamak had given Gruwert explicit orders: there were signs that Axaline felt encouraged by recent events, not to revolt exactly, but to mount a campaign of stubborn civil disobedience, and the sector was to be discouraged by peremptory means.
The Axalines would find their error of judgment a most costly one. Gruwert recalled the planet Rostia. They would get no reprieve this time, he promised himself with satisfaction. It would be knuckle under at once or—
A voice interrupted his scanning of the weapons readiness reports. It was the new pig brigadier he had put in charge of the Drop Commando.
"Admiral, something odd is happening. One or two rebel pirates have been turning up. I thought they had all been dealt with."
"Eh?" Gruwert thought quickly. "What have you done with them?"
"Scanned them away, naturally."
Gruwert muttered under his breath. He was annoyed, while at the same time pleased that the Commandos were as keen as ever. They were arme
"Don't scan them," he ordered. "If you find any more, take them alive. They're probably the ones who started disappearing shortly after we were boarded. Remember? Those funny lines in the air? It was the space rent doing it." He reflected again. "Some of our own people vanished too . . . leave that in my hands."
"Yes sir."
Gruwert cursed briefly as the Brigadier broke contact. Why did the Drop Commando have to bring him this news? It should have been picked up by Archier, the new Ship Management Officer! At any rate, he would need Archier to survey the ship's population and see if any vanished personnel had reappeared.
He put out a call to Archier. To his fury, there was no answer. The man wasn't contactable!
Such incompetence was all too believable! He would have him demoted yet again! He would have him cleaning the decks with the robots! The pesky human!
Gruwert suppressed his anger for long enough to think. The threat from the rent in space still remained. The Imperial Council was supposed to be organising a special scientific organisation to deal with it, but Star Force wasn't involved. Gruwert got the impression the Council was hoping the rent would go away on its own, which he didn't really think was the right attitude.
If people really were reappearing from wherever it was they had vanished to, they probably had some valuable information.
He heaved himself to his trotters, telling his adjutant to stay where he was. Nothing like a personal appearance to an awkward moment for keeping the staff on their toes . . .
Fleet Admiral (Retired) Archier, now Acting Ship Management Officer, sat disconsolately holding hands with Hesper Positana. She had discarded her rebel's uniform, after he had persuaded her that transportation to Diadem would not, any longer, mean a life of luxury and leisure. Instead, he had contrived to place her on the ship's register.
"How could the humans among you let it happen?" she protested.
She still did not understand about Diadem. "It just happened," he said simply.
"But they're not people. They're pigs. Pigs!"
"They are people, Hesper. To us, animals are people as well as human beings."
"Well they're not very nice people, are they?"
He was silent. He hardly dared mention what the future almost certainly held. A pig-ruled galaxy. A tyranny, probably, in which humans might even be relegated to second-class citizenship eventually. He was sure the pigs would never agree to share power with humans again, no matter what they said at present. The future belonged to them. They alone had the crude self-confidence that was needed, the ruthlessness, the love of power.
Neither did he believe the coup had been as bloodless as Hiroshamak claimed. There must have been opposition. It looked, now, as if they had actually used the fleets. All except Ten-Fleet had been taken over simultaneously by senior pig officers. Obviously, then, there had been a deal of forward planning. Probably Gruwert and his pig pals had been waiting for a signal too . . .
"There's talk of other species getting first-class citizenship too, if they prove themselves," he remarked emptily.
"The weasels, most probably! They'll grant them privileges, to make them even more enthusiastic." Hesper squeezed his hand and leaned closer. "Just what is your loyalty to?" she asked anxiously. "Is it to the Empire, no matter who owns it? Or to mankind, and civilisation?"
"Need civilisation be man's alone?"
"Yes!" she said emphatically. "Because only man is truly intelligent. These animals of yours—the only intelligence they have is what you gave them. It's borrowed. Apart from that, they're still undeveloped—not really sentient."
Archier listened carefully to her words. They sounded novel and strange. Was this how people in the provinces thought?
He sighed. "I don't know what you would have me do, Hesper. The pigs are in an invulnerable position. There's scarcely any opposition that I've noticed among the flagship staff, and they are the most dedicated citizens in the Empire. In fact, I believe they welcome the pigs' coup. The pigs will make the Empire strong again. Strong enough to claim the undisputed allegiance of every inhabited world. Strong enough eventually to embrace the whole galaxy—every biota-compatible planet. That's what the people who run Star Force want, both men and animals."
"That's right, SMO," said a lusty voice.
It was Gruwert. He came waddling forward, having apparently caught Archier's last words. "It's good you agree things have taken a turn for the better. But keep your communicator active in future, SMO. I've been looking for you."
He swung on Hesper, peering at her. "I don't believe I recognise you, my dear. What's your section?"
"She's in my department, Admiral," Archier said quickly, noting with alarm the loathing with which Hesper stared back at his superior officer.
"And a most touching scene the two of you were putting on, if I may say so. Not showing a lack of, shall we say, enthusiasm for the new order, is she? If so you'd better talk some sense into her. Disloyalty won't be tolerated!" His voice rose as he said this and he glared hard at Hesper. "What's the matter with you? Don't you want the Empire to be mighty, triumphant? The whole galaxy belongs to us of right, and it will all have to be held together. So make up your mind to it, because nothing can stop us now."
"Something can stop you, animal."
They turned on hearing the softl
y spoken words. A figure in a loose white garment was framed in the entrance to the chamber. The newcomer gazed on the scene as though not really seeing it, as though staring over their heads at something in the distance. Hesper recognised that look from her previous acquaintance with him. She knew he was observing them all keenly.
"Why, it's the kosho," Gruwert squealed in surprise. "I thought the pirates had killed you, kosho, or else the rent had taken you. Together with your master, the excellent Pout. What did happen to him?"
"He is safe," Ikematsu said blandly. "He is on this ship somewhere. I saw him briefly, but he ran away from me. Yes, the rent took us. But we have returned. Everyone has returned."
Gruwert's eyes narrowed. He had been looking for Pout ever since taking command.
He switched his communicator to subvocal mode and spoke to his adjutant. "That man-ape, Pout. He's on the ship, probably near where I am—I'm in the Ship Management Office. Have him found and brought to me."
"You speak to someone," Ikematsu said knowingly. He stepped into the room and beckoned behind him. Through the door came Sinbiane, leading Trixa by the hand and murmuring encouragement to him. The Diademian boy did not seem to know where he was. His eyes were glazed. His shoulders slumped.
Placing his hand on Sinbiane's shoulder, Ikematsu addressed the pig. "I hear I should congratulate you on a new appointment. No doubt you are now even more anxious to have the chimera under your control. You suspected him of being the weapon that could destroy the Empire. How nearly right you were, pig. But the weapon is neither a new leader or a social idea, as you thought. That was a clever deduction, but the truth is simpler. Remember what the oracle said: 'It has been disregarded because it is small.' The ultimate weapon is in fact that little gun that Pout carries."
"That toy?" Gruwert exploded. "What nonsense is this?"
Bayley, Barrington J - Novel 10 Page 16