by Jay Allan
Theseus looked out over the large number present, close to six hundred, all drawn from his own third ranking of the Mules. He’d gradually increased the size of the group he had working, knowing every time that it increased the chance of Achilles, at least finding out. He’d recently expanded the group dramatically, necessary for the final operation, and now he had to move. Ten people, even fifty, could possibly keep a secret for a time, but six hundred couldn’t. If he didn’t move immediately, someone would pass on information, either accidentally or intentionally. He knew he would have to deal with Achilles and the other, older Mules eventually, but he wanted to go to them with a fait accompli and seek only to hand off the leadership. That, he was sure, Achilles would accept, even if he still had some doubts about his views.
“I agree, Theseus…it is time. Time to make our move, time to use the weaponry we have prepared. Then, when the Regent finally attacks, we will have everything ready to face it, not just the things we have shared.” Anax spoke, his words partially rehearsed with Theseus. “Our society will be truly prepared for the fight that lays ahead of us…and we will prevail in that as well.”
Theseus looked out at the large crowd, making eye contact with as many of those present as possible. He knew he needed to address the whole crowd now, that there was no choice. But he was also aware that the elders would know something was going on…soon. He just had to hope they didn’t have time to figure it all out. And that meant moving quickly.
Very quickly.
“We must take action now. There is no time to waste…for a variety of reasons.” Theseus had been nothing but sure when he’d started the operation a year before, but now that things were ready to go, and he had so many of his comrades involved, he was edgy. He knew nothing was certain. Nothing at all. “We will commence the operation tonight…and we will push hard until it is complete. We do not wish to upset society any more than is absolutely necessary, but some of the NBs and Tanks will likely have to be killed, those in positions of power, at least, if they refuse to yield. But we must keep the damage to a minimum, and unless someone is killed in action, all must be given a chance to accept the new system. I understand that many of you have some resentments toward the others, especially the Tanks, but I urge you all to put these aside. Remember the Regent, and be aware that we must be ready as quickly as possible to meet its forces. This is an operation borne of necessity, but it is also one affected by this threat. Remember that…always. What we might choose to do if the Regent wasn’t in play is not necessarily valid, and we will accept a lesser level of control, give more leeway to the NBs and Tanks, than we might otherwise…as long as they accept us as being in command.”
Theseus looked out at the crowd, again checking as many faces as he could. He was fairly sure most of them at least understood what he had said, but he saw some signs of doubt as well. He truly hoped his people executed his plans exactly and didn’t elaborate. Any level of increased casualties among the NBs and Tanks only weakened their strength to prep again to fight the Regent. He wasn’t sure how he would feel in a universe without the enemy, with no threat, but he told himself in such a case, he wouldn’t even be in the position he was in. He was certain in such a situation, Achilles would have made a move years before, and prevailed. But the elder Mules had become too conservative, too obsessed by the Regent. Theseus understood that, and the risk he was taking…but he figured in the long run, it was actually the lesser of the two perils. Still, he was more nervous now that it was time to begin, to push forward the operation. Some of the confidence he’d felt was draining away now, and for a few seconds, he even considered calling the whole thing off. But it was too late, he knew that, and he still believed, mostly at least, that his plan was the best way to go.
He stood, silent for a moment, brushing back the uncertainty. Then he redoubled his effort and he said, “Okay…you’ve all got supervisors, who will tell you what to do. Tonight, we will strike. We will launch our operation, and we will prevail.”
He pulled deep within himself, doing all he could to sound certain, absolutely sure of himself. “We will prevail,” he repeated, and he banged his hand down on the podium.
Chapter Seven
Emergency Comm Sent Back to Earth 2 Via Indirect Channel
Attention whoever reads this. Linshire is in danger. I repeat, Linshire is in danger.
This communique is sent via established protocols in Code 001.
Linshire has detected an enemy vehicle in the system, or at least a likely one. The ship appears to be a scout, clearly with some kind of highly resistant system to upset detection. Nevertheless, our computer shows better than a ninety percent chance that the contact was legitimate, despite the fact that we have since lost it and been unable to redetect.
We can only assume that the ship is an exploratory vessel, and that its purpose was to search for occupied worlds. If that is the case, it has found us, and is most probably waiting for reinforcements. We have no idea how long it will take such forces to arrive, but we believe Linshire will be attacked within a matter of weeks, if not days. We have no way to defend ourselves, not against a serious enemy assault, and we therefore request aid be sent at once.
I repeat, Linshire is in danger. Please send aid at once.
Office of Max Harmon
Victory City, Earth Two
Earth Two Date 12.12.62
“The communique is top secret, of course, but I wanted to discuss it with all of you. We have two choices—assuming the news is valid—to attempt, somehow, to send forces to their aid…or to leave Linshire on its own, to sacrifice it to the enemy. We must remember that the message that came this morning is already four days old…and that any response will not arrive for at least another week. Yet, if we do not respond at all, the planet and its entire population will be utterly destroyed, there is little doubt of that, again, assuming the warning is valid.” Harmon sounded tired, very tired. The attack on one of his colony worlds was bad enough, but the enemy had stumbled on the nearest one to Earth 2. There was no certainty, no assurance, but it seemed likely that the discovery of the colony meant that the enemy was close to Earth 2, that they would find it, not in ten years, but at most a single year, and possibly sooner. Still, he didn’t mention that, didn’t raise Earth 2 at all. He didn’t have to…everyone present understood.
“Every bit of me calls to send in the fleet, to fight to defend the planet…but it is less than two percent of Earth 2’s population, and if Linshire was found, it can’t be very long until we are discovered as well. I believe we have to concentrate the fleet here and wait for the final showdown. Even if that means abandoning Linshire…and the other worlds as well.” Harmon had expected Connor Frasier or Devon Cameron to speak first, but the voice he heard was different. It was Terrance Compton II’s.
Harmon felt strange, and he realized how much the younger man—though not by any means, young anymore—now sounded like his father. The first Terrance Compton had been dead for more than sixty years, but listening to his son, not even born when he died, it almost felt as though he had found a way to communicate once again with Harmon. That was a long way from where the junior Harmon had started, but for the past twenty-five years, he had been almost a model of efficiency, so much so that he had risen to second in command of the fleet.
He pondered the response for a moment, knowing that he agreed, but also that he was still concerned over what abandoning a world might do to him, to his control over Earth 2, at precisely the moment he needed it most. If enough people saw him as careless, as unwilling to even try, he might encourage resistance against his rule…just as the enemy was coming.
“I believe I agree with you, Terrance…save for my concern over public opinion.” He stopped for a moment, but then he went on, something he doubted he would have done years before. He’d been closer lipped in his younger days, but now he was struggling for any way to be ready. Especially because he now believed he would indeed live to see the final battle. “There is much
opposition today, as all of you know. Perhaps even some of you have even considered it.” He hesitated again, concerned about that last remark. Not on its accuracy, but on whether he should have said it. “If the enemy comes through almost immediately, of course, there will not be time for any…problems…to develop here. But what if six months passes, or a year? It won’t take that long for people to relax, to start to forget that the enemy’s discovery of Linshire almost certainly means Earth 2 is next. What if there is a rebellion right before the enemy attacks? Honestly, we’re outnumbered enough, almost certainly. If they hit us when we’re on the verge of—or worse—actually fighting each other, we’ll be doomed. I know many people, perhaps many of you even, question my maintenance of power, but this is exactly what I did that for.” It had been precisely why he’d done it, though even he wasn’t sure he could give it up now, even if the Regent was destroyed.
“Max, I understand your concerns, especially about coming off as uncaring…but if we are even able to launch a decent proportion of our forces to Linshire in time to offer battle—assuming the enemy does attack—we will at the very least take severe losses, and probably will lose anyway. And if the enemy reaches Earth 2, as you suspect they will—and I agree—we will need everything we can get right here.” Achilles spoke, sounding calm as always, at least to most of those present, though actually, Harmon thought he was on edge. He was clearly concerned a meaningful fleet might be sent to Linshire, at least that was what Harmon could read. But if he knew one thing, it was that he couldn’t read the Mules, not entirely.
“So, you are suggesting that we leave Linshire to the enemy, that we allow 20,000 of our people to die without a fight?” The words sounded more challenging than they were intended to. Max Harmon basically agreed with Achilles, but he wanted to be sure his concerns as the leader, of holding onto his position a bit longer, weren’t pressing in on him. Harmon suspected Achilles didn’t know whether he would abandon his post the instant the Regent was destroyed or not. He suspected his friend had given a fair amount of time to analyzing the situation, and he bet he hadn’t come up with a definitive conclusion. Mostly, because Harmon hadn’t either.
“Yes…that is precisely what I am proposing. I will also remind you that approximately seventy of my people are on Linshire, on extended positioning in the research facility there. That is slightly less a share of our total population than it is of yours, but only by the smallest margin. I understand your concerns, I truly do, but how can we take the risk of engaging at Linshire? First, we don’t know what we can get there, even if we can get anything there before the attack is complete…before everyone there is killed. And, even if we can get a portion of the fleet there before the enemy attack, how much do we send, can we send? Most of what we have that is reasonably close to Linshire is actually located here, on Earth 2. Assuming we decide we can spare anything—a considerable stretch—how can we send it? It is only four jumps by the most direct route, but do we risk sending a large number of ships that way? If the enemy tracks them, even if they have to explore every point from their arrival…they could be here in days or at most a couple of weeks, rather than months. And whatever we can have here when they arrive—and they will arrive, make no mistake of that—it will be minus what we lost at Linshire…and perhaps that will be everything we send. Even if the entire force is not destroyed, can it really retreat directly back to Earth 2? Is there any way to prevent the enemy from following us, assuming they didn’t when we came in, from securing Earth 2’s position in a week or less, rather than a month, or three, or six or twelve?”
Achilles stopped, obviously not because he was out of concerns, but because he wanted to make his point, not scare the life out of everyone present. He was clearly concerned, as he had been for the past twenty years, about his peoples’ ability, all the people, of defeating the enemy. Few knew the Regent as well as Max Harmon, who’d spent years studying it, but perhaps he was one of them. He had known—Harmon was sure of this—that the people had at best, a fifty percent survival chance, and probably one far lower.
That was bad, even if he’d told himself that time would ease the situation, that the Mules would develop more science, that they would eventually pass even the level of the Regent, if only because the great computer appeared to consider the current First Imperium technology the greatest that could be obtained. The machine was incredible, an amazing development, but it appeared that continued research was somehow beyond it.
Harmon and Achilles both knew that wasn’t the case, that there was plenty of room to go beyond the imperial level…but it had been difficult enough to reach near-parity with the Regent in the time they’d had. Another twenty years, maybe thirty, and Harmon was sure the Mules could surpass the Imperium.
Harmon was also sure the only way they had that much time was if they defeated the Regent. And he would probably be gone by then in any event.
“I share many of your opinions, Achilles…and yet, I am concerned about just leaving Linshire wholly on its own.” Harmon paused for a moment, then he continued, “I am worried about the response of members of certain groups, especially if the enemy doesn’t move immediately on Earth 2.” He paused, realizing his concerns, while legitimate, also sounded like he was worried about his own power.
Which maybe he was…but he was also concerned about the enemy.
“I acknowledge that some of you may question my intent, my preparedness to withdraw if the Regent is defeated…but either way, I believe that none of you would change direction now, would leave us open and in a state of distress, not if Linshire is destroyed, if the enemy truly is just four systems away. And I repeat, if we are successful in destroying the Regent one day, I will resign…and live the rest of my days in quiet retirement.” He wasn’t sure of that, but for the moment, he believed it.
Achilles listened to the response, and he agreed with it…all except Harmon’s retiring, that he just wasn’t sure about. But he believed immediately that the action at Linshire, at least the prospect of it, was enough to forestall Theseus, and whatever operations he may be planning.
As long as he got to him soon enough and told him.
Achilles rose, suddenly tense. “Max, you have my agreement…but I must leave. Now. I have something I need to do, as soon as possible.”
He turned and walked toward the door, nodding at Harmon’s words, the latter of which he’d barely heard. He realized he would leave questions behind with his hasty departure. But he was edgy, and he knew he didn’t have much time. He wasn’t sure when Theseus’s plans would begin, or what, exactly, they were. But he was sure he didn’t have time to waste.
Very sure.
* * *
“Okay…it is time. There is some kind of meeting over in Victory City, and Achilles is there. This is our chance to gain some time, some advantage…and if we can get far enough along, I am confident Achilles will not challenge us, especially not when we yield to him, and accept his command, subject only to his agreement to the continuation of our effort.” Theseus spoke grimly. He was determined, sure he was right, but he still found it difficult. More than a year of planning had left him with a disturbing amount of uncertainty…not only about the necessity of the operation, but about the results of what he had conceived. He could tell himself that Achilles would come around, that the Mules would all be united in their grab for power…but in truth, it was all just guesswork. He knew it was possible, but there were several other potential outcomes as well, and more than one of them was grim.
“It is time, my friend, even past time that we make our stand, position ourselves as the uncontested heads of Earth 2.” Anax spoke. He was a loyal follower, but Theseus had begun to worry that he was too aggressive. Theseus was committed to the effort, but he had become less strong-willed about it, more concerned about the fallout, and the damage that could result. Anax was far less worried about those factors, and completely committed to the operations about to begin.
Theseus looked at the others, and he
got a mix of attitudes, stretching from his to Anax’s…but all of them appeared ready to go. Some were more anxious, but all appeared to know it was time, that they had to make the move. There could be no more delays, no more hesitancy.
“It is time, time for us to seize control. But we must do it quickly, and irretrievably. We must win before most of the others even know what is happening. That is the only way to pull things together quickly, to minimize the time of vulnerability. We must…” Theseus stopped suddenly. There was something going on, just outside the entrance. He heard it first, and he wondered what it was. Then, a second later, he knew.
For an instant, he panicked, wondering what to do…but the visitors didn’t give him much time to worry.
“Theseus, all of you…listen to me.” The voice was familiar, well-known to every Mule in existence. Achilles pushed his way clear of the two guards who had made a half-hearted effort to stop him, and he moved up to the head of the room, to Theseus. “I understand what you are doing, what all of you are doing. We could discuss the matter endlessly, even fight with each other, but when you all know what I do, I do not believe there will be any desire to move now.” There was a silence, for perhaps ten seconds. Then, Achilles said, “Linshire is under attack.” He only said it once, and he left another ten or twenty seconds before he continued. “The enemy is four systems away…and they will probably be here in six months. Perhaps less.”
