by David Weber
"I agree we must prepare for the worst, Your Majesty," Shamir Taje said. "At the same time, however, surely the possibility that this attack was a mistake, or that it was carried out by some rogue junior officer, must also exist. If we assume war is inevitable, may we not make it so?"
Most people would not have recognized the true question in the First Councilor's voice. But that was because most people hadn't known him as long as Zindel chan Calirath had. He recognized exactly how surprised Taje was to hear his Emperor, of all people, sounding so ready to embrace war and so dismissive of the chance for peace.
"Old friend," Zindel said quietly, "I pray from the bottom of my heart that war is not inevitable. I would give literally anything, for reasons of which you cannot even dream at this moment, for that to be true. But," his expression was grim, his eyes dark, "for the last week?since, in fact, shortly before this message was sent upon its way to us?both Princess Andrin and I have been experiencing a major Glimpse."
The Council Chamber was deathly silent, for these were Ternathian Councilors.
"Nothing I've Glimpsed at this time says war is absolutely inescapable," Zindel continued in that same, quiet tone. "But everything I've Glimpsed shows fighting, bloodshed, death on a scale Sharona hasn't seen in centuries."
Andrin's face was carved from ivory as she heard her father's deep, resonant voice putting the nightmare imagery of her own Glimpses into words that tasted of blood and iron.
"I've Glimpsed men with weapons I cannot even describe to you," the Emperor told his silent Council. "I've Glimpsed creatures out of the depths of nightmare, and cities in flames. Not all Glimpses come to pass. No one knows that better than someone born of my house. But it is my duty as Emperor of Ternathia to prepare for the possibility that this one will come to pass."
"I … understand, Your Majesty," Taje said softly into the ringing silence when he paused. "Tell us how we may serve the House of Calirath."
"We must understand from the beginning that the other heads of state won't have shared my Glimpse," Zindel said. "Most of them will recognize the potential catastrophe looming before us, but none of them will have Seen what I've Seen, recognize just how serious a threat this has the potential to become. Some of them will want to procrastinate and try to dodge their responsibilities, and others will bicker about protocol, precedence, and political advantage. Some may urge that we do nothing to 'exacerbate' the situation, while others will demand action, especially when the details of what happened to our survey crew become known to them. Still others may hope?as I do, however unlikely I feel it to be?to find a means to defuse the crisis through diplomacy and restraint. But whatever our views, however much we may agree or disagree with one another, we'll still have to come to agreement on some unified response, and Ternathia is the oldest, largest, and wealthiest empire on Sharona. As such, we must plan to play a leadership role in shaping that response.
"I need recommendations for Ternathia's most effective role. I know my own thoughts on the subject, but I want to hear yours, as well. All of them, no matter how seemingly foolish. You may come up with something important that I haven't considered. And I need facts, my friends?data on Ternathia's preparedness for war. The Empire hasn't actually fought a war in centuries. Skirmishes with claim jumpers or pirates in new universes hardly qualify?that sort of fighting doesn't come close to what I fear we may find ourselves facing. We may need to mobilize every fighting man in the Imperial forces. Indeed, we may even need to expand the size of our military. Drastically."
"But, Your Majesty," Nanthee Silbeth, Councilor for Education, protested, "we have the largest Army and Navy on Sharona!"
Zindel opened his mouth, but the First Councilor responded before the Emperor could speak.
"Yes, Nanthee, we do. But look at the population distribution. Most of the universes we've discovered are still virtually empty, and we've been exploring for eighty years. If we put every fighting man from every military organization on Sharona into the field tomorrow, shipped them all out by rail and troop ship, we still wouldn't have the manpower to guard all those universes, let alone mass the strength needed to hold them in a sustained, pitched battle."
"That's true enough, Shamir," chan Gristhane said, "and I certainly agree that we're probably going to need far more military manpower than anyone on Sharona currently has. At the same time, there's not going to be any point trying to cover all of the universes we've explored.
"First, because unless new portals form in critical places at exactly the wrong time, there's not going to be any way for the other side to magically bypass the portals we already hold. Believe me, offensive action on fronts as restricted as those portals permit is going to be very, very expensive, unless one side or the other holds an absolutely crushing advantage in terms of the effectiveness of its weapons.
"Second, even if that weren't true, if we put every single man of military age into uniform, we still wouldn't have even a fraction of the men we would need to garrison every universe against attack."
"You're right, Thalyar," the Emperor said. "And it's also true that the sheer distances involved in getting from here to the frontier, or the other way round, mean there's not much realistic possibility of either side scoring some sort of lightning-fast breakthrough. Not unless, as you say, it turns out that one of us has a decisive advantage over the other when it comes to our soldiers' weapons.
"At the same time, we don't know yet who these people are. Worse, we don't know how many of them there are, how many universes they hold, how much population density to expect in their colonized worlds. We could be facing a civilization two or three or even ten times the size of our own." Zindel shook his head. "Shamir is absolutely right in at least one respect. If this does turn into a real war, it's going to be a potentially long and nasty one, and I doubt very much that our existing military is going to be large enough for the job."
Dead silence greeted that assessment, until, finally, Brithum Dulan, Councilor for Internal Affairs, cleared his throat.
"Your Majesty, may the Council inquire as to your reasons for including Grand Princess Andrin in this meeting?"
Andrin abruptly found herself the focus of every worried eye. She couldn't breathe, waiting for her father's answer, for the words she feared would seal her doom. Even though she couldn't imagine what that doom might be, she was terrified of it. And then, to her surprise?and the obvious surprise of the Council, as well?her father rose from his throne-like chair and crossed the room to take her chilled hands in his own.
"I'm sorry, child," he said gently, "but you are heir-secondary, and Janaki's Marines are stationed only two universes from where our people were slaughtered. That's why I have no choice but to include you in our policy debates. If anything happens to Janaki … "
He watched her closely as his words sank in. Her cheeks were ice-pale, and her fingers flinched in his grip, but she didn't indulge in histrionics. Not that he'd expected her to. She was only a barely grown girl, not yet eighteen, who might well have been forgiven tears or impassioned denials that she might need to step into her brother's shoes as heir. But she was also a Calirath. She simply gripped his hands, swallowed hard, and nodded.
"Yes, Father." Her voice came out low but creditably steady. "I understand. I'll do my best to be prepared if?"
She faltered and swallowed again.
"I'll do my best, sir." She met his gaze levelly. "If I might suggest it, I could organize a military widows and orphans committee. I'm afraid it may be needed." He looked into her eyes and saw the dark shadows of his own Glimpse. "And I could help Mama oversee the travel arrangements," she added.
"Travel arrangements?" he quirked one eyebrow.
"To Tajvana." She frowned at his expression of surprise. "We are going to Tajvana, aren't we? For the face-to-face Conclave after this preliminary one? It's necessary, and it just feels … right, holding it there. It's where the Portal Authority is headquartered, and we can't do a proper job of meeting this emergency just th
rough the Voices."
She was stumbling over her words now, as if they were as much of a surprise to her as to anyone else. Yet there was no doubt in her tone, no question. It was obvious to Zindel that she was trying to logically frame what must have been a strong Glimpse. One that not only matched his, but dovetailed with the latest message he'd received from his Privy Voice, as well.
"No," he agreed, "we can't do this entirely through our Voices. But before we consider sailing to Tajvana or anywhere else, we must prepare for this Conclave. So, you'll join the Conclave with the rest of the privy Council. And I want you to do more than listen as we prepare for it. Your suggestion about assisting widows and orphans is a good one. There are undoubtedly going to be more of them than any of us would wish, and they'll need more assistance than ordinary pensions, before this thing is over. So if you have any questions, or other ideas, I want to hear them. Is that clear?"
She nodded, eyes stunned.
"Good."
He led her to the table and seated her firmly, making it clear to everyone?including her?that she was now a formal member of the Privy Council of the Ternathian Empire. She took her seat gingerly, as though poised for flight, but she held herself straight and kept her chin up. He was so proud of her it hurt.
"Now then," he said, resuming his ornate seat, "shall we discuss our readiness to fight a multi-universal war for survival?"
Chapter Twenty-Three
"I'm sorry, but Mr. Kavilkan is in a meeting and can't be disturbed."
Jali Kavilkan's private secretary spoke with more than a hint of frost, and when frost appeared in Linar Wiltash's voice, most men cringed. Davir Perthis didn't. He was SUNN's Chief Voice, and he was too busy resisting the compulsion to tear out his hair with both hands to waste time cringing. Instead, he leaned forward, planted both hands on her desk, and thrust his jaw out.
"If you don't disturb him for this, you'll be looking for another job by supper. Move, damn it!"
Wiltash's eyes widened. Then she stood, spine stiff with outrage, crossed her palatial office with obviously irritated strides, and tapped at the door of the sanctum sanctorum of the Sharonian Universal News Network.
"What?" The predictable bellow rattled the door on its hinges, and Wiltash eased it open just a crack.
"Voice Perthis says it's urgent."
"It had fucking well better be! Get in here, Perthis!"
The Voice scooted, and he felt a sudden spike of satisfaction as he stepped through the door. The meeting he'd interrupted was providential, because Tarlin Bolsh, SUNN's division chief for international news, sat across the ship-sized desk from the executive manager of the largest news organization on Sharona. Or, in the entire multiverse, for that matter.
Jali Kavilkan didn't seem to feel there was anything providential about the moment, however. Kavilkan lacked any kind of physical grace. Short and broad, with the square, heavy-child face, he moved as ponderously as a Ternathian battleship, overflowed any chair Perthis had ever seen him sit in, and somehow contrived to loom larger than men a foot taller than him. And, at the moment, he had his patented bellicose, take-no-prisoners glare focused directly upon one Davir Perthis.
"Well? What the hell's so godsdamned important?" he demanded.
Perthis closed the door behind him, pulling until the latch clicked with reassuring solidity. Wiltash had ears in every pore of her anatomy, which she used to keep Kavilkan informed of everything that happened in SUNN in's headquarters. For once, though, Perthis was privy to information she didn't have yet, and he wanted to keep it that way.
Once he was certain the door was closed, he met Kavilkan's angry stare with a level gaze of his own.
"Sharona's at war, sir," he said flatly.
"What?" Kavilkan's bellow actually lifted him to his feet, jerked up like some immense marionette. It came out half-strangled, the oddest sound Perthis had ever heard from him, and he half-crouched across his desk.
"Just what the hell do you mean by that?" he demanded an instant later.
"Exactly what I said, sir. We're at war. One of our survey crews has been slaughtered by soldiers from an unknown human civilization. The Portal Authority hasn't released the official word yet, and it won't release details until families are notified, but Darl Elivath's got confirmation from three of his best sources."
He paused briefly, and Kavilkan jerked a brusque nod for him to continue. Elivath was SUNN's senior Portal Authority correspondent. His strength as a Voice was much too limited for service in the long-range Voice network, but his sensitivity and ability to capture nuances was enormous. And his talent for cultivating inside sources was legendary. No one could remember the last time Darl Elivath had been willing to go on the record with one of his sources and been wrong.
"According to Darl, there were no survivors from our crew." Perthis heard the harshness, perhaps even the denial, in his own voice as he continued. "Orem Limana has blood in his eye, and he's already redeploying the PAAF. And that's not all. He's ordered a full Voice Conclave on his own authority. Every head of state on Sharona?and all of our inner-ring colony universes?got the word maybe twenty minutes ago. The Conclave's set for three-thirty, Tajvana time, over the EVN."
For three solid heartbeats, Kavilkan stood rooted in place, as if Perthis had just turned him into stone, and Tarlin Bolsh's jaw eddied towards the floor. Then the executive manager shook himself like a rhino heaving up out of a dust bath somewhere on the Ricathian plains.
"Darl is sure of this?" he demanded.
"I wouldn't be here if he weren't," Perthis replied. "And you know Darl."
"What about confidentiality?" Bolsh asked. Perthis looked at him, and the international news chief grimaced. "You know what the Authority will do to us if they think we've breached Voice confidentiality on something like this, Davir."
"This is Darl we're talking about, Tarlin," Perthis more than half-snapped.
"I know that," Bolsh replied. His tone wasn't exactly placating, but there was definitely a … soothing edge to it. Perthis' defense of his Voices was proverbial. "I'm not saying he has breached confidentiality; I'm just asking if we're in a position to prove he hasn't if the wheels come off."
"I'm sure he'll be able to demonstrate it for any Voice Tribunal he might have to face," Perthis replied, and Kavilkan nodded sharply.
"That's good enough for me," he pronounced. Then he frowned, finally straightening his spine while the acute brain behind his eyes spun up to full speed.
"Three-thirty, you said?"
"Yes, sir." Perthis nodded. "And they're going to play hell getting a conclave set up that quickly, too."
"You're telling me?" Kavilkan snorted. "But the question's how soon we break the story."
"I think we have to be a little cautious with this one, Jali," Bolsh said. The executive manager looked at him, and the division chief shrugged. "If it's big enough for Limana to call a conclave, then it's really, really big. It's not just a question of pissing people off if we break the story sooner than they want; it's a question of knowing what the hell we're talking about before we a splash a report like this over the entire planet. At the moment, all we've really got is Darl's heads-up, and with all due respect for his normal reliability, I think the possibility that the entire planet might find itself at war with an entirely new trans-temporal civilization needs to be thoroughly checked out before we go public."
Kavilkan scowled, but he didn't jump down Bolsh's throat, either. Instead, he squinted his eyes in deep and obvious thought for several seconds. Then he nodded to himself and refocused his attention on Perthis.
"Tarlin's right. We've got to doublecheck everything on this. Is there any sign anyone else's picked up on the same story?"
"Not yet," Perthis said a bit unwillingly. This was the biggest scoop of any newsman's career, and the thought of sitting on it for one second longer than he had to was almost more than he could stand. "It won't be long, if they haven't already, though," he pointed out. "Limana's used the EVN to set up
a conclave. The fact that he activated the EVN at all is going to become public knowledge pretty damned quickly. Once that happens, other people are going to be digging, too."
"Granted," Kavilkan agreed. "And I'm not saying we don't start setting up for it right this minute."
He yanked open a file drawer and hauled out a folder Perthis recognized as SUNN's crisis-communications tree?the list of names of every SUNN office on Sharona, the men and women who represented the first tier of people they would need to contact. Each of those people, in turn, had his or her own list of people to contact, comprising the second tier in the system that would send a priority message worldwide within minutes, via SUNN's own Voicenet.
"Pass the preliminary alert now," he instructed the Chief Voice, handing across the file. "And start roughing voicecast copy, too. Go with two versions. Number one assumes we have a clear scoop; number two assumes we're neck-and-neck with at least one of the minors."
Perthis grimaced but nodded. It wasn't like Kavilkan to play it this cautious, but by the same token, this was the biggest news story in at least eighty years. It wasn't too surprising that the executive manager was being a bit careful. And, when Perthis came right down to it, none of the other news services could compare with SUNN's coverage and penetration. Over seventy percent of the home universe's population?and closer to eighty-five percent of the home universe's Talented population?were SUNN subscribers, directly or through one of SUNN's many affiliates. Even if one of the minor services managed to break the story first, SUNN's massive, well-oiled organization would overwhelm the competition in short order with the sheer depth of its own coverage.
"Go ahead and work up both copy sets using everything Darl has," Kavilkan continued. "If there hasn't been any official release by three o'clock, Tajvana, then we break the story with whatever we been able to confirm."
"Yes, sir," Perthis said, with considerably more enthusiasm, and handed over a hastily scribbled sheet of paper. "I've actually made a start on that already. I thought we'd use this for the first announcement, then do a Voice patch to the Authority HQ. Darl's standing by there now, with a reporter, in case we want to use visuals. And I think we want a talking head standing by, too. Maybe a retired survey crewman looking give us an expert opinion on what's going on out there. It'll give us a good human interest angle, too."
