The Kalif's War

by John Dalmas

  "There's also a good possibility that the Klestronu destroyed the non-human ship with their distortion bomb, just before changing course. Which means it's quite possible that no other non-humans learned of Rashti's flotilla. Their rulers may have no inkling that we exist.

  "Finally, suppose it wasn't destroyed. Suppose it returned to base somewhere and reported. How important was the encounter to them? Worth sending out a fleet to sweep some vast, unknown sector of space on the chance of finding where the intruder came from?"

  He shook his head. "As I said, I am not much concerned. I will ask the War Ministry to prepare a contingency plan for my consideration, and I will share it with you. But I'm more concerned with what the encounter can mean to our religion.

  "We can't keep the non-humans a secret. Presumably the entire complement of the Klestronu flagship knows—some three hundred personnel. Rashti said nothing about keeping them sequestered, so we can assume they've been granted ground leave, and the story has been seeded on Klestron.

  "About all we can do is give it minimum mention for now—treat it as if it were unimportant. And give people other things to think about. Regarding the inconsistency with Scripture, we may decide—hopefully not—we may decide we need to 'discover', possibly even elevate, the legendary Book of Shatim. First we'd have to write it in a suitable form, of course, which we'll then 'find' in some linty paper archive. We can write it in a form which does the most good and the least harm. But only as a last resort, if it comes to seem urgently necessary."

  To the Kalif's surprise, there was no outcry at this. Thoga's pinched face only looked more pinched than usual, while Tariil's broad features were grim. Alb Drova seemed in shock.

  Alb Bijnath spoke then, a strong, vigorous man who seemed younger than any of them except the Kalif. " 'Give people other things to think about,' you said. What other things do you have in mind, Your Reverence?"

  "Perhaps you can suggest something."

  "I believe I know what you were thinking of."

  "And that is?"

  "Tell us yourself."

  The Kalif grunted. "Perhaps you credit me with ideas I don't have."

  Bijnath's mouth twisted with a suppressed smile. "I think not. You've had an evening to think about this, and slowness is not among your attributes. And after all, colonization was Rashti's stated purpose in exploring.

  "But I'm not surprised you're keeping silent about this one yet awhile. Any proposal to conquer the Confederation, or some part of it, would meet with a great deal of hostile resistance in the Diet and the empire at large, given the distance involved, and the expense."

  "Conquest? An interesting proposal. I..."

  "I did not propose it, Your Reverence," Bijnath interrupted. "I merely suspected you of harboring the intention, or at least the thought. Your first career was military, and even I can imagine long-term benefits in conquest, as well as some obvious difficulties. Meanwhile, the uproar and debate over the proposal would certainly leave less of the public's attention for the non-humans. That would be the case even if you had no intentions of actually invading anyone.

  "At any rate, you'd do well not to associate yourself with the idea at the beginning. Let it seem to arise from the military. As it will."

  "I stand corrected," the Kalif replied. "You didn't propose it, merely pointed it out. And elaborated on the idea at some length."

  "Even so, I prefer not to be mentioned in connection with it," Bijaath said.

  "You have my word on it. Does anyone else have thoughts to offer on this interesting possibility? Alb Tariil?"

  "Are you serious about this conquest, this invasion rather, of the alien confederation?"

  "I haven't proposed it. I didn't even bring it up."

  Scowling, the heavy-set exarch clamped his mouth to a lipless crease. "Your Reverence, do not play that game with me. I asked a serious question."

  The Kalif's eyes remained bland as they fixed on the exarch's. "I gave you a serious answer. I have not proposed an invasion. Nor do I intend to, at least not in the immediate future. But since the possibility has been pointed out, I suppose it should be looked at further, if for no other reason than to discard it. Certainly I can see serious problems in getting it through the Diet, as Bijnath pointed out. Should we decide to try." He frowned thoughtfully. "Alb Tariil, would you do me the favor of listing specific objections that might be raised? And possible answers to the objections."

  Tariil grunted; it was an assignment he'd gladly take. Any objections he might point out would probably not sway the Kalif, if he was set on it, but they would certainly strengthen the opposition.

  "Alb Thoga," the Kalif was saying, "if you'd do the same, please. Independently of Alb Tariil. I don't want you to consult with each other at all on this." His eyes shifted. "Alb Jilsomo, if you will list reasons that might be given for favoring invasion, and possible rebuttals...."

  His gaze shifted. "Alb Bijnath, because you wish to distance yourself from the invasion question, I'll ask you to look into something else entirely. You, more than most, have worked with SUMBAA. If you will consult with it on the danger, if any, of the non-humans invading us...."

  Bijnath nodded. "Of course, Your Reverence."

  "And, Drova—"

  "Your Reverence?"

  "After tomorrow's meeting of the College, I'd like you to poll the remainder of our colleagues regarding a proposal to elevate The Book of the Mountain to the status of a commentary by The Prophet. Without speaking against it or for it yourself."

  The old man's face was glum. "As you wish, Your Reverence."

  The Kalif looked again at his lieutenant. "And, Alb Jilsomo, I would also like you to evaluate political factions, whatever factions you'd care to define for the purpose, and their probable reactions to the hypothetical invasion Alb Bijnath suspected me of intending."

  Jilsomo nodded. "As you wish, Your Reverence."

  Alb Tariil spoke then. "You have said what you want each of us to do. What will you be doing?"

  The Kalif pursed his lips thoughtfully. "The report refers to extensive backup information. Presumably this was in the cubes for SUMBAA, and SUMBAA is better suited to sorting it out and correlating it than I am. So I will question SUMBAA. I'm also going to send an order to Rashti to promptly ship us everyone who might have valuable first-hand information about the Confederation's military strengths and weaknesses. There may be information that wasn't brought out in debriefing. I want to know as much as possible before taking a firm position or speaking publicly about it at all."

  The Kalif broadened his attention from Jilsomo to the entire council. "Meanwhile," he went on, "our colleagues will receive copies of the cube at supper. They'll no doubt want to question you when they've had a chance to look it over. Refuse to discuss it. I want as much of the raw discussion as possible to be in formal session and recorded."

  He paused to look them over. Alb Thoga sat tight-lipped, and Tariil seemed willing to let be for a while. "All right," said the Kalif. "What else do we need to discuss here this morning?"

  * * *

  When the council broke up half an hour later, Alb Jilsomo started for his office, reviewing the situation mentally as he walked. Bijnath had been right, of course: The Kalif had been thinking about conquest—probably as early as a year ago. The evening before, with a sort of ferocious verve, he'd begun listing arguments for and against an invasion, trying them out on him. He'd hidden the strength of his interest well in council, though. Or turned it off; that was more like it. He'd seen him do it before.

  Jilsomo's computer screen held message notices, but he ignored them for the moment as he settled his bulk at his desk. I can handle conflict, he told himself, and handle it well. But I prefer its absence. The Kalif, on the other hand... The exarch shook his head. He savors it. He doesn't invite it, but when it comes, he savors it.

  There'd be plenty of conflict before this was done, Jilsomo told himself, and turned his attention to the screen. He wondered if the Kalif's app
etite for it could possibly match the supply.

  Nine

  Eighteen exarchs sat around the long oval table, their eyes on the Kalif at one end. One had a hand in the air.

  The Kalif recognized him. "Alb Riisav," he said.

  Riisav spoke without rising. "Rashti has dumped a basket of snakes on us! We need to do something about him!"

  "Ah. He did indeed, in a manner of speaking. Well... The Prophet wrote that while results are the harm, it is evil intentions and heedlessness that are reprehensible. Rashti's intention was not to harm. He wanted to find a planet or planets for colonization, to bleed off the discontented of his world, and turn men's attention outward instead of in. As for heedless—He sent his flotilla into unknown dangers, true, but I suggest we forbear with him for that. If Lord Gardhiroopala hadn't rocketed off into unknown dangers, three thousand years ago, or someone like him at sometime since, we'd be living in poverty on a single world, its resources long since used up.

  "I agree completely, though, that something needs to be done about the basket of snakes." He scanned around the eighteen exarchs. "Would someone like to identify those snakes?"

  Hands shot up. The Kalif called first on Alb Riisav again, then on others. The same points were made and elaborated as had been made in council the day before: The finding of numerous inhabited worlds would dash The Prophet's seeming infallibility, and harm his aura of clairvoyance, which would weaken Karghanik, and the fabric of civilization. While finding the non-human empire gave credence to the oral tradition of a lost Book of Shatim. Also, the presumed non-human empire now knew about humans, posing a possible threat to the security of humanity.

  The Kalif or others answered those points much as he'd answered them in council the day before.

  The possibility of invading the Confederation was brought up, but the Kalif didn't accept it for discussion till they were done with Alb Riisav's "snakes." Finally he pointed.

  "Alb Varso, you wanted to discuss a possible conquest of the Confederation. This was brought up in council yesterday, but we didn't discuss it at any length. Would you like to address the matter now?"

  The man spoke seated. "I wasn't thinking in terms of conquering the entire Confederation, Your Reverence. I mean—twenty-seven member worlds and even more subject worlds? Even with our superior weaponry, that's far too many. It would be more practical to conquer one or two of their lesser worlds. Subject worlds."

  The Kalif's thick brows jumped; the exarch's military naivete had taken him by surprise. "I haven't given the matter much thought yet," he answered, "but I am interested. Depending on how we go about it, I think we can follow your suggestion, yet have them all."

  He gave them a moment to puzzle at that. Jilsomo repressed a wry smile: Haven't given the matter much thought yet!

  "Keep in mind," the Kalif went on, "that I'm speaking offhand—thinking out loud. First let's consider their naval strength. Three years ago, according to our best information, they had between seven and ten battle cruisers and fifteen or twenty of what they call frigates, apparently similar in function to light cruisers. As far as fighting vessels are concerned, that's all. Remember, the Confederation worlds have no navies of their own; only their central government has warships. They are a people whose wars have been minor, and fought almost entirely on the surfaces of tributary planets. It seems their major worlds have not fought each other for a very long time. Also, at any one time, most of their fleet is stationed near or on their central world, a planet they call Iryala. Other units are visiting other planets, generally singly, or hunting smugglers; things of that sort.

  "Of course, the Confederation may well have begun work on enlarging their fleet since the Klestron incursion. I'd expect them to. Our information, though, is that they've had no active program of building warships for a long time, so it's unlikely that they started with significant naval shipyards and armories. It will take time for them to make major progress toward a powerful fleet, time we mustn't give them. If, in fact, we're going to invade.

  "Now suppose we capture a single system, the system of one of their lesser worlds. Presumably we'd start with just one in any case. Should we send a force we consider sufficient to take and hopefully protect just one? Or as powerful a force as we can?

  "Suppose we send half our imperial navy: four battle cruisers and ten light cruisers, along with troopships and supply ships, and then pause for a year or so to consolidate our control and organize our new possession. Let's say we also deploy a defensive pattern of T-bots in the surrounds.

  "Meanwhile, the Confederation would have built new shipyards and be adding to its fleet, perhaps significantly improving its weaponry at the same time. When they were ready, they'd strike to recover their lost planet. Logical? And their lines of supply and reinforcement would be far shorter than ours. Far shorter. Depending on how great our advantage in weaponry actually is, if their strategy and tactics were good enough, they might hound us and drive us out."

  He paused. No one seemed inclined to break in.

  "On the other hand, suppose we attack with a maximum force: most of the imperial fleet plus most of the sultanic fleets. And assault their throne world, a planet named Iryala, catching the main part of their fleet there and destroying it. Iryala is their only world with facilities for building hyperspace ships. That monopoly is the key to Iryala's imperial dominance, as it is to ours, so they're unlikely to change it.

  "Therefore, if we should capture Iryala, and destroy or decimate the warships stationed in her system, it would break their ability to do anything serious about our conquest."

  The Kalif paused, his attention on their faces, their reactions. He had their attention. Not their agreement, necessarily, but their attention. "As I said, I'm speaking offhand, and without extensive training in naval warfare. But that could be the broad strategy.

  "Also, Iryala is, or was, the only Confederation world equipped and allowed to manufacture major munitions. Thus any surviving remnants of their fleet could operate only until their ordnance was exhausted. We could go to whatever Confederation world we wished, concentrate our strength there, and capture it. Possibly we could rule the entire Confederation through the existing bureaucracy. If not, then over a period of time, perhaps a century, we could conquer it planet by planet."

  He looked the exarchs over again and found no fidgeting, no suppressed arguments awaiting the floor. He continued:

  "The scenario I just outlined is based on one main assumption: that our space weaponry is much superior to theirs. There is no doubt that ours is at least somewhat superior, and probably substantially so. In particular, it seems almost certain that they have no energy shields, and that by itself would give us a great, a decisive advantage.

  "With this as a background, who has questions or comments? Alb Varso?"

  Varso stood. He was a smallish, wiry man with the appearance of considerable energy. "Your Reverence, have you given thought to how the empire might rule such conquered worlds? Conquer them perhaps, but rule them? They'd be something like three years distant by hyperspace. It would take four years or more simply to complete an exchange of messages by pod!"

  The Kalif nodded. "This would have to be worked out in detail, in advance. It might be an autonomous region, governed for the empire in the name of Kargh, perhaps by a governor general. Karghanik would be the tie; Karghanik and the tradition of the colonists' home worlds. Obviously we couldn't actually administer them from here."

  Alb Tariil Ramataloku's hand took the Kalif's attention. Tariil's opening words came as they often did, with a hint of distaste that he didn't realize showed: He was as strong a traditionalist as any, yet it was difficult for him to voice the honorific. "Your Reverence," he said, "the principal advantages to such conquest would be plunder at first, and colonization and trade afterward. Trade on a basis favorable to us. Plunder, of course, could be selective, and no doubt quite valuable. But it could not continue; when the conquest was completed, our occupation force would have to instit
ute rational and orderly management, and that would be the end of plundering. But trade on terms too unequal would be against the teaching of The Prophet, while a fair exchange over such a distance might not be profitable."

  Around the table, a number of heads nodded in agreement.

  "Nor could we expect great profit in taxes over such a distance, if the colonies are autonomous. The taxes would go mostly to support our governors there, and the necessary bureaucracy and occupation forces we'd have to maintain."

  Tariil paused, his wide mouth clamped for a moment as he let his argument sink in. "I do not think such a venture will be profitable," he finished. "Even assuming its success, I believe we'll regret such an invasion if we undertake it."

  The Kalif had not sat down, and when Tariil had finished speaking, he replied, "I'm glad you stressed selective plundering. Which implies the organized and controlled removal of selected, high-value goods. To permit indiscriminate looting would make the people there much more difficult to govern, I do not doubt, and cause no end of trouble.

  "But I consider plunder an unimportant part of the possible value of conquest there. In fact, it might be well to prohibit plundering. As for trade, it might prove more significant than you think. To be sure, in the six years needed for a single round trip, the same cargo ship could make twenty round trips between here and Veethvoktos, or ninety between here and Klestron. But mere may be cargoes available there which are still well worth hauling. I'm not speaking of bulk cargoes, obviously.

  "Still, such a conquest would be expensive. The best reasons I can see for the effort and resources it would take are not economic. Consider the reasons that Rashti had in sending out his expedition: namely to find a new world to which the restless and discontented could go. And a place to which restless or discontented minds could direct their attention."