by Ian Miller
"Either that or bite his head off," Kazyn growled, in a surprisingly low-pitched voice.
Natasha had to laugh, because she knew the thumping tail was a sign that the advice was in jest, although she had to concede on later reflection that given the opportunity he might very well have done just that.
"Jennifer Munro," Gaius said. All eyes fell on Jennifer; she stood tensely, unbowed, but not defiant. "Your potential for trouble is exactly the same as your uncle's. Accordingly, we have passed the same sentence on you." Jennifer stood where she was, making very little movement. Her face remained expressionless, but her eyes fell, and her shoulders slumped slightly. "Nevertheless," Gaius went on, "we are prepared to accept that you need not, after careful reflection, wish to cause that trouble, and we acknowledge that towards the end you assisted us. For this reason we are prepared to make your sentence suspended for three years. If, during that time, you help dismantle GenCorp according to directions given to you, retain the total secrecy of this meeting, and otherwise refrain from antisocial and antigovernment behaviour, you will be free to carry on a normal life. If you willingly assist in some important reforms, you may even be able to take up a position of some importance. After you have dismantled your potential power base, the slate will be clean, and you will still be quite wealthy. If, on the other hand, you accept this offer and break our rules, you will carry out your sentence in isolation, in the highly uncomfortable complex on Miranda, where you will gradually decalcify. We shall give you a day to decide. Take it, and think carefully. We offer you a second chance, but unless you really mean to take it, the consequences to you will be terrible in the extreme. You may go."
"I've already decided," Jennifer said evenly. "I'll stay."
"You realize how serious this will be if you falter?"
"Do you realize how abhorrent life would be with no other human being than my uncle?" came the cold reply. "Frankly, nothing would be worse, but I have heard you, I accept I've lost, and provided you don't humiliate me too much, I'll cooperate fully."
"You're in no position to impose conditions," Natasha said coldly.
"When the other side wants something, there's always room to negotiate," Jennifer smiled wanly.
"It's not our intention to be sadistic," Gaius assured her, "but neither is it to be soft. If you fail to cooperate, Marisa will know what to do."
"Marisa?" Natasha asked involuntarily.
"Natasha, I'm sorry," Gaius said quietly, as he looked towards her. "I'm doing it again."
"Doing what again?"
"Anticipating the decisions of others. Perhaps living out my hopes," Gaius smiled weakly. "Natasha, I want you to come with me, but I know you may prefer to stay. I want you to do what you feel is best for you," he went on, rather stiffly, Natasha thought, "but listen to the others. In a sense, their analysis is correct. If you were a chess piece, you should do what they say. If, however, you feel you want to remain, for duty, personal ambition, whatever, then it is quite wrong to come."
"Come where?"
"They'll explain," Gaius replied. "Listen to them while I'm escorting Jennifer from here."
"Surely someone else can do that?" Natasha asked.
"Yes, they could," Gaius replied, "but the truth is, I want to be elsewhere while you're deciding. Natasha, if you wish to be an empress, you have my blessing, and believe me, I've seen a lot worse than you. If you wish to join me, please make sure those other desires are put firmly behind you."
"Gaius," Natasha protested, "it's not power! There're so many things that have to be done and –"
"I know better than you might think," Gaius nodded. "It often starts with the most noble of purposes, but inevitably something doesn't go quite right, then comes the pragmatic compromise, then the need to defend against the personal attacks, then the inevitable error, and before long, the nobility is well eroded. Natasha, forget the nobility; listen, then do what your heart tells you. Come Miss Munro. We shall discuss your future living conditions."
Natasha watched the pair leave the room. She felt hurt. Everybody was looking at her; it was obvious that everybody knew what had been prepared. A surge of anger began welling up within her. "I'll listen," she said firmly and harshly, as she turned towards them, "but I warn you, I'm less than impressed that Gaius has to get you to try to persuade me to do what he wants me to do."
"We want you to," both Gelempt and Hadell said gravely, then the Ulsian added, "Please! I need this more than any of the others."
"You must! You must!" Kazyn said excitedly.
"Most people would say no," Lucilla smiled enigmatically, "but please, Natasha, be one of the others."
"I don't think I'm going to like this," Natasha said, shaking her head in bemusement.
"What we want," Lucilla went on, "is for you not to return to Earth. I know you have personal ambitions, and quite frankly, you've earned the right to the honour and glory far more than any other Terran, but you must turn your back on the glamour and honours of Terran society."
"Suppose I said that it's not the glamour," Natasha replied quietly but firmly. "Earth is in a terrible crisis, and it needs every bit of help it can get. I could argue that I could very well offer some of that help."
"And we would agree with you," Gelempt added. "That's what we want you to do."
"I'm afraid I don't understand," Natasha said with a flustered tone. "I thought you said –"
"Let me elaborate," Gelempt added. "You'll be the most help to us, and to Earth, if you're dead."
"Dead!" Natasha exclaimed. "You don't want much do you?"
"Natasha," Lucilla laughed, "there's already a body in full refrigerated display. They're saving the body for a funeral to be held with full military honours and complete Terran coverage. They're assembling officials from all over the planet. For the first time in Terran history, the whole planet will mourn. You don't have to do anything!"
"Especially not turn up," Kazyn growled.
"But that would leave people like Garrett an almost free rein –"
"For the honour and pomp, yes, but freedom of action, no," Lucilla remarked.
"And why not?"
"Natasha," Gelempt interrupted, "our sociodynamic studies –"
"Wait a minute –" Natasha started, with considerable irritation.
"Please, Natasha, let him finish," Lucilla interrupted firmly, but kindly.
"I'm sorry," Natasha nodded. "That was rude, but –"
"I fully understand," Gelempt said, with the expression Natasha now recognized as the nearest thing an Ulsian would do to compare with a smile, "and, frankly, you have more grounds than most to be angry. But for all that, Natasha, our studies are very clear on one point. Terrans tend to never dispute with the dead, and seldom fully agree with the living."
"People like Garrett want the position," Lucilla added. "They don't particularly want to achieve anything, and they'll latch onto whatever's there. Properly managed, the words of the dead Natasha Kotchetkova could become the bible for reform. On the other hand, the live Natasha Kotchetkova, saying exactly the same things, would be a threat to their positions, and she would be the target of continual threats and plotting."
"The fact is," Kazyn said, baring his teeth and thumping his tail, "you'll achieve a lot more when you're dead!"
"Essentially, the issue is this," Lucilla continued softly. "If you want the pomp, the honours, the position, we have to resurrect you, and we shall, but if you want to maximize the chances for Earth to progress, you'll let that funeral proceed, and put your efforts elsewhere."
"What exactly do you want?" Natasha asked softly.
"You define what you would try to achieve, then lay down the principles to make it happen," Gelempt replied quietly. "What this planet needs more than anything else right now is another John Adams and a Thomas Jefferson all rolled into one, and we're asking you to try."
"You don't want much, do you?" Natasha replied, almost in desperation.
"In going this way," Gelempt point
ed out, "we can assist."
"How?"
"Let's start. What was wrong with the democracy the current system replaced?"
"I suppose two basic things," Natasha said quietly. "Firstly, the lack of discipline. Everybody began exercising all their rights, but not their obligations, which weren't spelled out so clearly, hence –"
"Hence you need the principles of a new constitution whereby rights and obligations are fairly spelled out."
"What we have," Kazyn added, "is that some rights are fundamental, but your right to further rights increases as you meet further obligations."
"And second?" Gelempt prodded.
"Getting elected was such a full-time job that you got those who had the most skills at getting elected," Natasha replied. "They couldn't do the job, and having got there, they spent all their efforts on manipulating things so they could get re-elected."
"So the answer is?"
"You need skilled people in certain positions, and constraints on power. That's what our Council was –"
"And what went wrong? No, don't answer now. Think it out, and you'll get there."
"So you're going to present my last words to the Terrans?"
"No!" Lucilla smiled. "What we intend to do is to invite you to write your own 'last words'. We shall offer guidance and suggestions, but they will be your words. When you're finished, these will be 'discovered' by Harry or Marisa, and presented to Earth in a way that prevents people like Garrett subverting them, although to be fair, we're not sure Garrett'll even try. If you've got any really firm ideas, we can get these ready to be read at your funeral next week. Finally, if necessary, Harry and Marisa can find a few pieces of provisional advice, to be opened only if the situation demands it. That will give Gelempt here the opportunity to feed in some late corrections."
"But I don't get that opportunity?"
"I'm hoping you won't be here," Lucilla almost pleaded. "I want you to come with Gaius and me."
"With Gaius and you?" Natasha asked.
"Yes, Natasha," Lucilla said, with a slight flush of embarrassment. "Yes, Gaius wants you to be with him, but he also needs both of us. We have three of the most powerful Ulsian battleships ever built, and if these are to be functional, we need three pilots. Natasha, there's nobody else."
"Also," Gelempt added, "you did mention you wished to be of service to Terran society. Although this cannot be recognized in your planet's society, this is the most useful action you can take."
"I thought the war was over!"
"It is," the M'starn commander chuckled, "but you have other problems."
"And they are?"
"Us," Hadell grunted. Her eyes were lowered, and she attempted to avoid all direct contact with the others. Kazyn's head was also lowered, his forearms covering his head.
"You?" came the cry of almost sheer astonishment.
"The Ranhynn," Kazyn offered. "Not us personally. Please believe that."
"Would someone please tell me what this is all about," came the exasperated reply.
"The argument's fairly simple," Lucilla said. "Over two dozen of the most sophisticated battle craft in the galaxy passed nearby, and headed for Earth. The Ranhynn sent three high speed, lightly armed craft. Why?"
"Reconnaissance?" Natasha asked, at last beginning to understand.
"Exactly," Hadell said flatly. "Their task was not to fight, but to observe whether these craft stopped near Earth, or kept going, and if they stopped, determine what action the visitors took. If the visitors used military power to defeat Earth, they were to determine whether there was sufficient industrial capacity left for them to build more ships, and to estimate their likely rate of reproduction, then report back. I found this out, more by accident, before the great battle."
"But the Ranhynn fought?"
"They had no choice," Hadell admitted. "Three of the top-class Ulsian battleships made anything but total compliance completely out of the question. But now those ships are returning and will report that the visitors were beaten."
"But surely that's good news. Now the M'starn aren't going to build ships and attack Ranh."
"That's bad news," Kazyn said flatly. He opened his hands, as if he could not understand why anyone could think this was good.
"The problem is," Lucilla continued, "that the remnants of a fleet that was only narrowly defeated by half of the defences that even Ulse could throw at it was convincingly beaten by Terrans, with some Ulsian help."
"The M'starn ships were badly damaged before they came here," Natasha pointed out, "and we would have been soundly beaten without the Ulsian ships, even though the M'starn had almost no manufacturing capacity."
"It is very kind of you to say so," the M'starn leader intervened, "but the others speak truly. The Ulsian ships were not critical to that battle. Two of our three squadrons were beaten before the Ulsian ships became involved. Had either of those two squadrons had a reasonably clean victory, then the field would have been ours. The Ulsians could have stayed and fought, but they would have been defeated. More likely they would have retreated.
"No! Don't question Gaius later," the M'starn went on, "because to ask him is unfair. It is not a question of valour, but simply common sense. When victory is impossible, retreat is the only sensible option to surrender. Not to take either of those options is not a sign of bravery but rather one of outright stupidity, and a totally callous disregard for the lives of your soldiers and people. I surrendered, even when believing my soldiers would be killed in reprisals, simply because I hoped some of my people would be left alive. Don't downgrade yourselves. The Terrans fought well, except, that is, for those we allied ourselves with," came the slightly bitter finish.
"You should have chosen your side better," Natasha smiled.
"True," came the wistful reply, "but we did not have a lot of choice. We needed assistance that could only be obtained from your most advanced manufacturing and mining sectors, and we thought we were negotiating with representatives of those sectors. We guessed wrong, and we paid for it."
"I think we're getting away from the point," Lucilla intervened.
"The point is," Kazyn growled in embarrassment, "the Ranhynn will view this as the worst possible outcome. What they have nearby is a very young, warlike race which has an abhorrence and fear of reptiles that is only matched by our loathing of mammals, and which has developed sufficient space technology to defeat a foe that even the legendary Ulsians had difficulty with. Worse still, much of the technology you used is unconventional, even amongst advanced societies, so nobody can be absolutely sure where you could end up. We have Ulse's disease. There's been no significant scientific advance for a couple of million years, so there's no confidence we can analyze with absolute certainty what you can and can't do, and what defence we would need when you get there. And there's worse!"
"There's worse?" Natasha asked in a puzzled tone.
"Don't you see it?" Kazyn said, almost in frustration. "Our life forms are compatible! We have the same DNA. You could colonize our planets without worrying about compatibility, apart from the disease problems."
"As you could ours," Natasha added.
"Exactly!" Kazyn said, his tail starting to twitch. "What do you think the Ranhynn leaders will do?"
"You think they'll consider a pre-emptive strike?" Natasha asked slowly.
"Think!" Kazyn almost squeaked. "There'll be an almost unanimous decision to build a fleet and put an end to this problem while they still can."
"Gaius and I have to go to Epsilon Eridani and try to persuade them that the Terran society has peaceful intentions," Lucilla said. "Our problem is, though, that Gaius and I represent people who lived two thousand years ago, and we have spent so much time on Ulse, rising to the top of Ulsian society, that we may not have much impact. It would be very helpful if you, as a special envoy, the Commissioner for Defence, could come to represent the current Terran society."
"I'll be an ex-Commissioner," Natasha pointed out, "and I'll be dead. Won't
that minimize my impact? I'll have to tell them that."
"Apart from being dead, they'll know that," Lucilla smiled. "You could hardly have some sort of alternate for twenty-odd years! All advanced societies realize that such officials are ex, and have devoted themselves to that specific visit."
"As for being dead," Kazyn noted, "your appearance will probably dispel that. Remember, it would take them twenty-two years minimum to check, so if they had any idea at all of your funeral, your appearance would probably lead them to conclude their report was in error."
"We regard this as very important," Gelempt added. "I know something of Ranhyn society, and your presence will be critical. Gaius and Lucilla will be seen as Ulsian officials, carrying out Ulsian philosophy. They will not wish to irritate Ulse too much, but they will realize that they would have at least fourteen hundred years to prepare for any Ulsian response."
"Why don't you tell Natasha the truth?" Lucilla said quietly, as she leaned back in her chair and stared at the Ulsian.
"The truth?" Natasha snapped. "What?"
"Oh, everything that's been said is true," Lucilla shrugged, "but there's been a critical confession that hasn't been made, has it?" she said, as she stared intensely at the Ulsian.
"I am embarrassed," the Ulsian visibly twitched. There was a pause, then finally he continued, "Thank you, Natasha for not making the obvious retort. The problem is technically ours, and we are begging you to help us."
"How about going a little further?" Lucilla persisted.
"As you can see," the Ulsian said with a mournful look towards Natasha, "you have an ally. Essentially, it is my responsibility to see that you Terrans can evolve free of outside interference, and it seems I've bungled."
"But with aliens here –" Natasha started.
"It was after all that," the Ulsian continued. "I know you're not going to like this, but having got into that position, we sat back and. . ." The Ulsian paused, as if unsure of what to say next.
"And did a sociodynamic analysis?" Natasha asked caustically. A broad smile spread across Lucilla's face.
