The Best of Subterranean

by William Schafer

  “We could change the law,” said Il. More agreement around the table.

  “We could,” Gau agreed. “This executive council was empowered to do so. Each of you was elected among the governments of the Conclave to represent their interests. So yes, we could change the law. And then we could watch as Conclave members peel themselves away and form new alliances, because this council will have shown that we have no interest in creating the universe we said we were interested in living in. I don’t think we should be in a rush to dissolve the thing we’re supposed to guide. Do you?”

  “You know the humans are dangerous,” Wert said. “They were the movers behind the Counter Conclave. They nearly wrecked the Conclave before it even began. We’re sitting here being judicious in our response to them, but you know as well as any of us, General Gau, that the humans are not returning the favor to us.”

  “I’m not suggesting we ignore the humans, Counselor Wert,” Gau said. “Nor do I think it’s in the nature of the humans not to test our will. We will no doubt have an opportunity to face them again, and I suspect we will, sooner rather than later. What I suggest we remember, however, that the Conclave is more than the sum of its military might. We have other ways to discover the intent and the capabilities of the humans, other tools at our disposal. We want to create the circumstances in which the humans make their move, and we are able to respond—in our way, by our own laws.”

  “Just as we would with any other race,” Sorvalh said.

  “Precisely,” Gau said. “If we make a special case of the humans, we give them significance, and we diminish the Conclave by saying that we have to work outside our own laws to contain them. We give them power, which will attract others to them. We make it harder to defeat them. I’d prefer not to do that. When we defeat the humans, we want that defeat to be unremarkable. They will be just another race, isolated and alone, no longer a threat to anyone, much less the Conclave.”

  * * *

  The beams of light illuminating the Whaidian colony suddenly snapped off. General Rybicki felt the confusion in the room over that; the video in the room had begun with the colony swathed in light, and most people assumed that the beams would eventually focus into lethality. Shutting them off seemed unnecessarily cruel.

  “Here it comes,” said Secretary of Defense Anthony Crane, who had seen the video before.

  The killing beams were initially hardly detectable, with just the errant occasional flash of an airborne dust mote igniting to suggest the beams were there. But within a fraction of a second the entire colony ignited and exploded, and superheated air blew the fragments and the dust of the colony’s buildings, structures, vehicles and inhabitants up into the sky in a whirling display that illuminated the power of the beams themselves. The flickering fragments of matter mimicked and mirrored the flames that were now themselves reaching up toward the heavens.

  A shockwave of heat and dust expanded out from the charred remains of the colony. The beams flicked off again. The light-show in the sky disappeared, leaving behind smoke and flames. Outside the periphery of the destruction, an occasional solitary eruption of flame would appear.

  “What is that?” asked Karin Bell, the Secretary of Colonization.

  “Some of the colonists were outside the colony when it was destroyed, we think” said Crane. “So they’re cleaning them up.”

  “Christ,” Bell said. “With the colony destroyed those people would probably be dead anyway.”

  “They were making a point,” Crane said.

  “Point taken,” Bell said. “Lights, please.”

  The video shut off; Rybicki felt the tension in his shoulders uncoil.

  The lights came up to reveal a room jammed with people: Crane and Bell with their assistants and staff; Rybicki and several other generals and admirals with theirs. The general officers and the secretaries sat at the circular table; the staff members milled up against the walls.

  The meeting was rather more packed, and packed with different people, than Rybicki had expected it to be. Rybicki had walked into room prepared for a status update meeting on Roanoke; he was going to discuss John Perry and Jane Sagan agreeing to lead the colony. That was not this meeting.

  “How did we get hold of this video?” asked Charlie Garr, Bell’s chief of staff. “Who do we have working inside the Conclave that can get us something like this?”

  Crane cracked a bitter smile. “You’re making the assumption that the Conclave doesn’t want us to see this, Charlie,” he said. “But you’d be wrong about that. This video was hand-delivered to us, and to every non-Conclave-affiliated government, by messengers from the Conclave itself.”

  “I don’t understand,” Garr said.

  “The Conclave has decided that races who aren’t in the Conclave can’t colonize any more,” Crane said. “We knew that already, of course. Only now, it’s clear the Conclave is intending to enforce that decision. If we try to colonize, that’s what’s going to happen to all of our new colonies.” Crane pointed toward where the video had just been playing. “This is their way of making sure we know they’re serious about their policy positions.”

  “This really happened, then,” Colonel Dunn asked, behind Rybicki. “I mean, this isn’t an archive video from some attack in the past.”

  “Along with the video, the Conclave gave us the coordinates of the colony—the former colony—and a three-day window to confirm for ourselves that the attack happened,” Crane said. “We checked. It happened, Colonel.”

  “What colonies of ours are at risk?” Bell asked.

  Crane nodded to his own chief of staff, Lance Wantanabe. “Theoretically, none,” he said. “The Conclave is targeting colonies established after it was founded. That was almost two years ago. We established the Everest colony, but it didn’t stick. As long as the Conclave stays within its own laws, we won’t be a target until we try to found a new colony.”

  “Which we intend to do,” Rybicki said. As he said it he realized he wasn’t entirely sure whether he meant it as a statement or a question.

  “Why did they take so long to start going after new colonies?” Bell asked.

  “There are over four hundred races in the Conclave,” Wantanabe said. “If they’re anything like us, coordinating anything substantial is going to take time. They had to get their own government up and running and stable before they could worry about anyone else. We and at least a couple dozen other races took advantage of that time to found new colonies, but now it looks like the Conclave is determined to back up its threat.”

  “But that can be to our advantage,” Crane said. “The Conclave is going to be busy policing the colonies that were founded in its wake. That gives us time to plan our attack.”

  This got Rybicki’s attention. “ ‘Our attack?’ ” he said. “You’re suggesting that the Colonial Union can go up against the Conclave.”

  “I am, General,” asked Crane. “Do you think otherwise?”

  “As a practical matter, there are 400 races in the Conclave, and one of us,” Rybicki said. “That is not an insignificant matter of scale.”

  “I agree, but I don’t think we really have much of a choice in that matter,” Crane said. “Unless we are willing to join the Conclave, which we are not, or are willing not to colonize, which we are not, the alternative is to fight the Conclave and destroy it.”

  “I’m not disputing that these are our options,” Rybicki said. “I’m simply not sure how we go up against an enemy like that and not get ourselves slaughtered.”

  “Start by changing your frame of reference,” said a voice down the table. Rybicki turned to see General Szilard, head of Special Forces, staring back at him with that disturbingly blank expression the Special Forces had. “You’ve made the mistake of taking the Conclave at its word, General Rybicki. You’re seeing as it would like to position itself to the non-affiliated races. Monolithic. Coordinated. Unstoppable and inevitable.”

  “The video we just saw makes a good case for that,” R
ybicki said.

  “That was the point, of course,” Szilard said. “What the Conclave doesn’t want you to see is that it’s young, uncertain and filled with political and social faultlines that we can exploit and use to bring it down. It’s a little like a diamond, general. You can’t wear down a diamond. But you can shatter a diamond to dust if you just know where to hit it. We can’t go against the Conclave head-to-head. You’re right about that. But we can destroy it. All we need is the right tool, used at the right time.”

  “And what tool might that be?” Rybicki asked.

  Szilard looked over to Crane.

  “All right, everyone,” Crane said. “Let’s make this official. This meeting and everything said and done in it is covered by the Colonial Union State Secrets Act. Nothing leaves this room. General Szilard, you have the floor.”

  “Thank you, Secretary Crane,” Szilard said. “I’m going to keep this simple. The way to defeat the Conclave is to play by its rules.” From the video output a picture flickered into existence, showing a thin, pale creature.

  “For those of you who don’t know, this is Tarsem Gau, leader of the Conclave,” Szilard said. “He’s a general for the Tsideian race, or was a general, anyway, and still refers to himself that way, although of course he is the de facto leader of that planet as well as of the Conclave. Despite the power that devolves to him alone, Gau is, as far as we can tell, a creature who is genuinely trying to create a lasting political structure and not a prop for his own cult of personality. He’s nation-building.”

  “That’s optimism for you,” Crane said, as a joke. No one laughed.

  “Because of that, our intelligence people suggest he is extraordinarily sensitive to making sure that nothing the Conclave does is above its own laws,” Szilard continued. “This means we believe that the Colonial Union will not be attacked until and unless we attempt to found a new colony— and that the Conclave will only attack that colony.”

  “That means that any new colony we found is going to find the entire Conclave in its sky before it even has time to dig in,” said Secretary Bell.

  “It means, Secretary Bell, that by following the rules the Conclave has established, we will choose the place and time for our confrontation,” General Szilard said. “And that if we do things right, we can weaken the Conclave along the way so that when the confrontation happens, we can strike a fatal blow.”

  “And what will ‘doing things right’ take?” Bell asked.

  “No more than what we already have planned,” Szilard said. “General Rybicki.”

  “Yes?” Rybicki said.

  “I believe that when you came to this meeting today, you were going to provide Secretary Bell with a status update on the Roanoke Colony. Now would be an excellent time to give it.”

  * * *

  After the council meeting, Hafte Sorvalh asked for a private audience. Gau, though tired, invited her back to his personal office. He was amused when the Lalan, tall even for her own tall race, tried to be diplomatic about its size.

  “This is cozy,” she said.

  Gau laughed, as he sat. “You mean to say it’s impossibly cramped. Please, sit, Counselor Sorvalh.”

  She sat. “I don’t mean any disrespect. I assumed your own office would be larger than this.”

  “I have the large public office for meetings, and to impress people when I have to, of course,” Gau said. “I’m not blind to the power of impressive spaces. But I’ve spent most of my life on starships, even after I began to build the Conclave. You get used to not a lot of space. I’m more comfortable here. And no one can say that I give more to myself than any other counselor on the executive committee.”

  “Indeed,” Sorvalh said. “You are almost arrogant in your humility, general. If you don’t mind me saying.”

  “I don’t,” Gau said. “But we can always go to my public office if you prefer.”

  “I’m fine,” Sorvalh said. “It actually is cozy.”

  “Thank you, Counselor,” Gau said. “Now, please. What’s on your mind.”

  “I’m speaking here primarily for myself,” Sorvalh said.

  “All right,” Gau said.

  “I’m worried about certain influences on the executive council,” Sorvalh said.

  “Ah,” Gau said. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with the strange, sudden marriage of convenience between counselors Il and Wert, would it?”

  “You have to admit they make an unusual pair of allies,” Sorvalh said.

  “I admit it,” Gau said. “I also suspect there is more going on there than either of them would like for me to know about. Suffice to say that I’m already going to be looking into it. But in itself, I’m not entirely sure I should express too much concern. There are a dozen members of the executive council for a reason. To make sure there are a multiplicity of voices, and not all of them telling me what I want to hear.”

  “I appreciate that,” Sorvalh said. “I have taken advantage of that freedom myself. But—with all respect—when others of us have disagreed with you, we’ve still kept the interests of the Conclave at the heart of the matter.”

  “You doubt our two friends are doing that?” Gau asked.

  “I can’t say for sure,” Sorvalh said. “I can say that your destruction of that Whaidian colony has motivated them and others. Before you did it, the matter of the Conclave’s military might was entirely theoretical. There was no Conclave military might, just an agreement that if it was used, it should be used in particular ways.

  “But now there is a Conclave military, and you’ve consecrated its use against the Conclave enemies. Composing it of soldiers and ships of every Conclave member was your way of assuring responsibility for its use was shared by all. I suspect some are beginning to wonder if the converse is true—by spreading responsibility around you spread it thin enough that no one has to take responsibility for anything. And that’s an inviting prop osition when you have enemies on a list.”

  “Inviting enough to put one’s own interests first,” Gau said. “Perhaps,” Sorvalh said. “Allow me to suggest that today’s attempt to get you to attack the humans was less about the humans than it was a probe to see how flexible you are with your power. The humans are an easy target. They have no friends, and everyone knows they mean us harm. But as you said to me, today’s special case is tomorrow’s standard practice.”

  “I thought you might be testing me with that,” Gau said. “Testing you? Oh, no,” Sorvalh said. “Merely providing you with an opportunity to make a point. And I was pleased to see you take advantage of the opportunity.”

  “I’m happy to please you, counselor,” Gau said.

  “Then perhaps you’ll consider something else that might please me— and a few others on the council,” Sorvalh said. “I and others are gratified that through the many shars it took to create the Conclave, you have always avoided assuming the powers you could have easily assumed. Time and again you showed that your interest was not in personal power, but in building a lasting peace. But now the Conclave is here, and I wonder whether the democratic impulses that led to its creation might not undermine it as you attempt to bring the remaining races into the fold.”

  “You think I give the executive council too much say,” Gau said.

  “I think the executive council was useful when the Conclave was being born,” Sorvalh said. “I wonder if it will continue to be useful as we progress.”

  “I think it will be,” Gau said.

  “Perhaps it will,” Sorvalh said. “But you should know that when we Lalans chose to join the Conclave, it wasn’t an executive council we trusted to achieve peace. It was you, General Gau. You and your vision.”

  “But part of that vision was the idea that not too much power should rest in any one person, even me,” General Gau said. “I want to lead the Conclave, make no mistake about that. My arrogance extends that far. But I don’t want to do it as an emperor or a tyrant. Empires fall and tyrannies collapse. I’m hoping for something more
than that.”

  “People might be suspicious of someone who doesn’t want power for himself,” Sorvalh said. “It’s not normal.”

  Gau smiled. “I’m not pure, counselor,” he said. “I have the usual amount of personal vanities and flaws. And I enjoy running things. But I hope that if I had to choose between my personal power and the well-being of the Conclave, I could pick the Conclave. So far, it’s been easy for me to say I would pick the Conclave. But I dread the temptation of picking myself. It would be easier. If nothing else, the executive council keeps me from having to make that choice.”

  “Then I hope for your sake you never have to choose between one or the other,” Sorvalh said.

  “Thank you, counselor,” Gau said. “I appreciate the thought. There’s little worse in life than a choice you suffer for. Whatever choice I would make in that situation, I would surely suffer, believe me.”

  * * *

  Colonel Dunn found General Rybicki alone in the conference theater, staring again at the projection of local space.

  “You were right,” Dunn said. “I tried looking out the window at the stars. I couldn’t see a single one of them.”

  “Well, they’re all here,” Rybicki said, waving dismissively at the display. “All the ones that matter, anyway. All the fucking stars with all the fucking intelligent races around them. Here they are, Colonel. Enjoy them.”

  “I was going to ask you if you were all right,” Dunn said. “But I suspect I already know the answer to that.”

  “I’m fine,” Rybicki said. “I may be slightly drunk and pissed off, however. I’m entitled.”

  “There’s a chance they could change the strategy,” Dunn said. “General Szilard said that there was still some work to be done on the details.”

  “Don’t kid yourself, Colonel,” Rybicki said. “Szilard is Special Forces. Special Forces are bred to be heartless sons of bitches. And he certainly did his job. The strategy is done. They’ll tweak here and there for maximum effect. But we’re moving forward, all right.”