by Ian Miller
Chapter 17
Two further plays were produced and shown initially at their familiar amphitheatre, with a live audience and with open-air, three-dimensional reproduction, then they were shown at similar places across Ulse and made available for home viewing. As Vipsania remarked, it seemed as if the Ulsians were stunned by the plays; they apparently did not understand them, at least initially, but they kept coming back. As the Tin Man explained, while it was unlikely they would ever fully understand them, any more than the Terrans could understand some of the Ulsian productions, they were entranced by their novelty and by their relatively crude raw strength. Ulsian dramas had become incredibly subtle, thus incredibly slow moving, which was why the Terran plays attracted so much attention. Their simplicity and their directness seemed so powerful, even if much of the material was so far outside the Ulsian way of thinking.
The social effect on the Ulsians did not quite eventuate the way Vipsania and Lucilla imagined. Having waded through a number of Ulsian productions which seemed to revolve around the most subtle of subtle nuances, or of the dynamics within committees, both were quite flabbergasted to find that the Ulsians did not seem to understand what was involved by "wives withdrawing their services". Not only that, but they did not even seem to care. Not that, as Lucilla remarked caustically, she had seen any wives there. But that was not the point they focussed on. What seemed to have set the Ulsian community into almost a meltdown was that they could not understand why the husbands wanted to be away at war.
War was something abhorrent. The problem was, they were in one. Then a commentator pointed out that although the Ulsian federation of planets had had peace for an enormous period of time, much of this was due to two facts: Ulse had a reputation for total fairness towards other species, in fact it even bent over backwards to look after other species on other planets, however Ulse also had a reputation, admittedly earned so long ago that it hardly bore thinking about, of having power that no other species had, and of using it to crush absolutely those who would use their technology to bully even lesser species.
Many of the planets within the Ulsian federation had been settled by colonization, but there were other species there, and Ulse always reserved a reasonable supply of planets for colonization by late developers. This benevolence towards civilizations yet to emerge was backed up by an iron fist, or at least the reputation of an iron fist. The M'starn were threatening to show that Ulse had more a straw fist.
What could be done? The only solution was to return to the old ways. But what were the old ways? As far back as accessible history seemed to show, there had been a willingness to use force to protect Ulsian interests, to enforce Ulsian law, and to protect more vulnerable emerging civilizations. In fact, little force had ever been used. A small squadron of Ulsian military vessels had merely to turn up and that was usually the end of any trouble. But rumours abounded that there was, in fact, much history prior to what was now readily accessible, history that had been deliberately made inaccessible, history of a darker part of Ulsian life.
The military traditions, such as they were, indicated that at one time, Ulsians had been willing to go to war. It was generally accepted that those were terrible times, but Ulsians had had to do their duty. Now, this play indicated that humans were at that stage.
What terrible barbarians, some said. Perhaps, said others, but perhaps the fact that Ulse had such a reputation may well have been due to Ulsian equivalents of these terrible barbarians. Perhaps that was the trouble. Certainly, modern life on Ulse was far more preferable to the life of those times, but perhaps by discarding barbarianism, they had also discarded the ability to defend themselves effectively. Now they were in danger of losing everything.
The discussion raged on and on, a fact that totally surprised the Terrans. As the Tin Man explained, this was how Ulse reached decisions. Ulse progressed when a change was needed through Ulsians carrying out a wide-ranging analysis of the problem at countless meetings, then by agreeing at more meetings on the logical methodology required to reach a conclusion, then by reaching the conclusion, then by voting to be sure they understood the analysis and the conclusion. If any logical argument could be raised to show a fault of process, the issue was revisited. Any qualified citizen of Ulse could initiate such a change process by calling a meeting, any single qualified Ulsian could criticize such a change process, and if so a whole new process had to be initiated.
"Sounds like you'd never get much done," Gaius remarked casually, once this was explained.
"When you have had a civilization operating more or less unchanged for twenty million years," the Tin man remarked, "there is no pressing need for, as you put it, getting new things done. Much better to stick to what is known to work."
"Except when you're attacked," Gaius remarked. "You need to be able to respond more quickly."
"Ulse agrees that a response is required," the Tin Man replied. "Accordingly, it has ordered its armed forces to defend Ulse, and it is building military equipment as quickly as it can. How to fight is a different matter. That is left to the commanders."
"Who are on record as not winning," Gaius pointed out.
"That is true," the Tin Man said. "That is why the discussion has emerged in the public domain." There was a pause, and the Tin Man added, "It's all your fault, of course."
"Mine?" Gaius looked puzzled.
"Your analysis on that program. The problem is, now you've told them about a twelfth strike force, everybody's scared stiff. There're Ulsians running around saying this is the end."
"I never suggested this was the end," Gaius protested. "I merely said Ulse should go more onto a war footing. There are things to do, to −"
"I know," the Tin Man said. "The problem is, does anyone else?"
It was only later that a thought struck Gaius. When the Tin Man had said it was all his fault, the Tin Man had effectively been teasing him. That lump of metal had never before done anything with such human characteristics. Later, he approached the Tin Man and asked about this.
"Yes," he said proudly. "I have been given more memory and a learning chip. You like the change?"
"Depends where you end up," Gaius replied evenly, to see the response. "You might end up a real tyrant."
"Oh! That couldn't possibly happen," the Tin Man said with almost surprising earnestness. "I have been given this so that I can learn to be more like you, to support you, to . . ."
"That is impressive," Gaius interrupted. "But don't take everything you hear from us too seriously. If you start teasing us, we shall return the treat."
"The treat?"
"If you dish it up, you've got to learn to take it back."
"You want me to stop, what you call, teasing?"
"No, I want you to take it back without getting your feelings hurt."
"Then that's fine," the Tin Man replied. "I have no feelings to get hurt."
"That's not what it seemed like a few moments ago," Vipsania chided.
"No," the Tin Man replied. "That was odd. I have never done anything like that before. Is that what 'feelings' are?"
"It's a start towards finding out," Gaius offered. To his surprise, the Tin Man nodded, said something about having to think about this, then he turned and returned to his position at the door.
Chapter 18
Gaius stared in surprise. There before him was Klendor, dressed in a glistening blue uniform with strange iridescent red decorations dropping a few inches from his shoulders down his chest.
"Surprised to see me?" Klendor asked.
"Pleased to see you," Gaius replied. "We missed you."
"Being in the military, and with a war on . . ."
"I understand completely," Gaius nodded. "Anyway, don't just stand there. Come in!"
Gaius showed him the way to their triclinium, and apologized for not having anything to offer in the way of food or drink. "You're our first real Ulsian guest," Gaius explained, "so we're not very well equipped."
"That's all right," K
lendor replied, in a rather stiff tone. "I didn't come just to consume."
"That's a really brightly coloured uniform," Vipsania said, in an attempt to lighten up the mood. "Those red things? Do they indicate rank?"
"Yes!" Klendor beamed. "This is the uniform of a major in the staff inspectorate. It's a promotion."
"Then congratulations," Gaius said warmly. "On Earth, we would share wine to celebrate. Only . . ."
"We shall celebrate together," Klendor said. "Maybe different drinks, and I have some for myself outside, if you still want to after what I say next."
"Oh oh!" Gaius said. "Bad news?"
"Depends how you view it," Klendor said. He paused, then said in an earnest tone, "I want you to join me on this job. You will be an honorary inspector."
"Honorary?" Gaius asked quizzically.
"You'll get a commission," Klendor replied, "but when this job is over, you lose it. And there's no pay, and no pension, because . . ."
"Because?" Gaius asked quizzically.
"Because on Ulse you can only have one income, and we understand your share of the income from entertainment far exceeds anything the military would offer."
"That's all right," Gaius nodded. "There's no point in dropping income."
"You also do not get a formal Ulsian rank."
"Oh?"
"They wanted to offer you one," Klendor said hurriedly, "but I said that you couldn't possibly accept because you were a major-general, and what they were offering was too low. So you will be an honorary inspector for some of the Ulsian defence systems, addressed as Legatus."
"That's somewhat senior to you," Gaius reminded him.
"That doesn't worry me," Klendor replied with what Gaius was beginning to realize was the Ulsian equivalent of taunting mirth. "There are two outcomes. One's that you're wrong, and there're no enemy attacks. If so, it hardly matters what we do, and you'll be retired out again. The other's you're right, and there are attacks. My feeling is that if so, the current defences are in such a terrible state it will do me good to have someone above me to blame!"
"Now, that I understand," Gaius muttered. "Do we have any authority?"
"Other than what sort of punishments can be awarded, we, or perhaps I should say you, have total authority."
"Which means?"
"If there have to be punishments, I alone can dish them out. They have to be within Ulsian law."
"No crucifixions?" Gaius grinned.
"Not a lot of decimations either," Klendor nodded, "and floggings are out too."
"What about further drill?" Gaius asked with a slightly scathing tone.
"That is most definitely in," Klendor agreed, missing the undertone in Gaius' voice, "and not only as a punishment."
* * *
To Gaius' initial surprise, he was in nominal command of the force deployed to protect libraries. The major factory centres, the defence bases, the spaceports, these were all under the sole control of the Space Force.
When Klendor imparted this information, he stood back to see how Gaius would react. He was probably disappointed, for Gaius almost failed to react. His first thoughts were to complement the Ulsians on recognizing the significance of libraries, but his next thought was that since almost all the information was dispersed electronically anyway, this was just a fill-in job. But never mind. He was a soldier, he had clear orders, the libraries would be protected.
He changed that view when he saw the plans of the defences, which were anything but trivial. There were a tremendous array of sensors, and at the defenders' sole control at each library were twenty bolt cannon and ten dephasers. Each cannon fired a high-energy bolt of particles five times a minute, each bolt travelling at just under light speed and each bolt had enough energy to vaporize a small asteroid. The dephasers seemed to Gaius to be an even stranger weapon; they would lock onto the target and seemingly do nothing for a few seconds, then suddenly the quark wave functions would change phase, resulting in a collapse of nucleon stability and the object so "dephased" would transform into jets of energy, and if any of those jets struck another ship at reasonably close range, that ship too would usually be destroyed. Jupiter's bolts of lightning were trivial compared with this.
When Klendor arrived to collect him for the first inspection, Klendor immediately expressed disapproval. "You must wear your full uniform!"
"But . . ."
"It is most important," Klendor insisted. "The commander must show the importance of the situation by appropriate attention to the detail of his appearance! He must . . ."
"All right," Gaius groaned. It was true that all armies had rules, some more useful than others. This one would be a pain, but such pain had to be endured.
They arrived at the library, then entered an elevator of which Gaius had been totally unaware, then they began a surprisingly long descent. Then they walked along a corridor, and entered the defensive facility. His first impression was favourable. It took quite a while to get in, identities were checked, double-checked, orders were verified, then access was cleared. While they were being checked, Klendor thanked him.
"Why?" Gaius asked curiously.
"For agreeing to do this, and also for not asking to wear a gladius. That might have been embarrassing."
"We're not in the field," Gaius replied. "I would not wear a gladius inside the city of Rome."
"I still appreciate your not being difficult," Klendor nodded.
"I'm sure if I'd been a problem, you could have done this yourself," Gaius shrugged. "I'm the redundant one here."
There was a pause, then Klendor said, "Strictly speaking, that's not true."
"How come?" Gaius asked in a puzzled tone.
"I am here to assist you," Klendor said. "If you weren't here, neither would I be."
"I find that hard to believe," Gaius remarked.
"It's true. The orders were specific. Get you. Get an Ulsian who could work with you. My promotion was a reward for . . . well . . ."
"Putting up with my shit!" Gaius grinned.
"Ulsians wouldn't put it like that," Klendor replied, a trifle primly, "but essentially, yes."
"Klendor!" Gaius said, as he pulled himself to a halt. "I'm really glad I got you a promotion. And I really mean that."
"Thanks," a puzzled Klendor replied.
"Down here," Gaius continued, "if you want to say something, do something, just do it. No matter what, I'm going to have to trust your judgment, so I'm letting you know now I do."
"Thank you."
"Now, we have a job to do," Gaius added. "Let's do it."
They went down a further elevator to a control room deep below the surface, then access was obtained to the controlling rooms. Ulsians were huddled over screens. Then the impression deteriorated as everyone turned and watched him. He walked through the facility slowly, then left without saying anything.
Over the next few days, the same thing happened in the other sites.
"What we need," Gaius said slowly, "is to simulate an attack and I'm not sure how to do that, but . . ."
"No problem," Klendor said. "The military can throw some drones for them to practice on."
"Can we simulate an imaginary attack?" Gaius asked.
"Yes, but then we won't know how well they're shooting," Klendor pointed out.
"Before we worry about that," Gaius replied, "we need to see how long it takes to get around to shooting."
Klendor nodded, then said he would make arrangements. Gaius was given a small piece of equipment to take on his next visit; Klendor would not come, but instead monitor events, and ensure that the space-ways were clear of traffic. The last thing they needed to do was to annihilate a freighter that was accidentally in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Once again, when Gaius entered, all eyes were on him. He waited until attentiveness was at its lowest, then he hit the switch. A strange high-pitched noise filled the room. As Gaius suspected, the first response was panic. Ulsians started running everywhere, some to the door.
Then Gaius angrily spat out the phrase, "You're all dead!"
They all stared, fearfully. Was this alien ordering their execution?
"If that were a real attack," Gaius continued, "you put up zero defence. Therefore the attackers could do what they wished. They would have killed the lot of you. Hence you are all dead, in the exercise at least." He paused, then said, "All those who ran towards the door instead of attending to their posts, line up over there."
Seventeen cowering Ulsians did so.
"On my planet," Gaius continued flatly, "you would now draw lots, and two would be beaten to death by the others." There was a deadly silence. "You regard this as uncivilized," Gaius went on, "you don't permit that sort of thing, but remember, the Roman army does not lose. One of the reasons it does not lose is that no soldier dares run from his post. Major Klendor will now dispense punishment." He nodded to Klendor.
"You are all replaced," Klendor said flatly. "That is not the punishment, although where you go to should be. You will be sent to an Assault Infantry Corps. Now, go!"
"The rest of you hardly shone either," Gaius said coldly. "Those responsible for the weapons system step forward?"
A number did.
"The weapons systems were not made ready for firing. Why not?"
"There were no enemy," one explained.
"You don't know that!" Gaius roared, and the Ulsian flinched. "The alarm went. That means someone thinks there is one."
"But I thought . . ."
"You thought!" Gaius roared. He moved slightly to one side, and when the Ulsian's eyes followed, he roared again, "Keep your eyes forward!" The Ulsian again flinched, and stared forward. Gaius roared again, "You don't think! Your job is to get the weapons systems going. That is all, and you failed. Major Klendor?" Gaius turned to Klendor, unsure what to do next with these.