A Rising Thunder-ARC

by David Weber

  “Only in the shortest possible term,” Kolokoltsov said positively. “Personally, I think it would convince most of the other Core Worlds that the Manties and their friends are just as expansionist and arrogant as we’ve been telling them they were all along. It would sure as hell knock any notion of distant, plucky little neobarbs defending themselves against Solarian aggression on the head and turn them into cynical imperialists striking at the very heart of the greatest star nation in human history! The most likely thing for the rest of the Core Worlds to do in that case would be to sue for a cease-fire just long enough to figure out how to build matching missiles of their own, then hammer this ‘Grand Alliance’ flat, and the Manties have to know it.”

  He shook his head and looked straight at MacArtney even as he spoke to Wodoslawski.

  “I don’t see the Manties wanting to pump that kind of hydrogen into the fire, Agatá. Not unless we drive them to it. For that matter, I don’t see Beowulf wanting to piss off so many of its neighbors by allowing that sort of attack. Whatever happens to the League, eventually Beowulf’s going to have to live with the star systems around it again. If the Beowulfers stick that kind of knife into the League’s back, most of those star systems are going to be gunning for them once the smoke clears and the tech imbalance has leveled out again.”

  “Assuming the damned Beowulfers are smart enough to figure that out,” MacArtney grumbled.

  “I think they are,” Kolokoltsov said with just a bit more confidence than he actually felt.

  “Maybe so,” Wodoslawski said, “but there are other factors to consider. Like what’s going to happen if someone else decides to follow Beowulf’s example on this one. It could turn out Beowulf’s only the first drop of rain, and if that happens, we may find out just how badly screwed we really are.”

  Kolokoltsov grimaced and decided—again—not to mention his agents’ reports about Beowulf’s neighbors. There’d be time for that once he’d been able to confirm the accuracy of those reports. But the permanent senior undersecretary of the treasury had a point, and he nodded as he was forced to concede it.

  “That’s one of the things I’m hearing about from the transstellars, too,” MacArtney said. “They’re all worried that even if the Manties don’t use Beowulf to go after the League from the inside out, Beowulf’s example is going to cause other Core Worlds to decide to sit this one out. That’d be bad enough, but what happens when the Shell hears about this?” He shook his head. “You know that even a lot of the League members systems out there aren’t all that fond of our policies. I won’t say they feel as exploited as the Protectorates and the Verge, but they know we’ve consistently favored the Core World economies over their own. And a lot of them are a hell of a lot closer to Manticore and Haven than they are to us, even leaving the wormhole network out of the equation. If they see us starting to shed Core Systems, what’s to keep them from deciding to jump ship and look for a better deal out of the Manties, too?”

  What you mean, Nathan, Kolokoltsov thought, is that your buddies in the transstellars are worried about somebody’s seceding from the League and nationalizing their investments. That’s what they’re really worried about. And it’s what they’re turning the screws on you about, too. They could care less whether or not the entire Shell stays in the League as long as it went on being business as usual for them! Which it won’t, of course, if the people they’ve been exploiting for so long see a chance to get out from under them.

  He nodded gravely once more, keeping his thoughts out of his expression. And the truth was that what MacArtney was describing would become an all too plausible scenario if things went all the way south on them. For that matter, Kolokoltsov had entertained the occasional nightmare about what would happen if the transstellars started trying to cut deals with the Manties. Given the way their tentacles completely permeated the League, they could do an enormous amount of damage if they decided to throw in openly—or, possibly even worse, clandestinely—with the Manties and Havenites. He had no idea how likely the Manties would be to accept an offer like that, but he never doubted that the “loyal and patriotic” men and women who ran the transstellars would make it in a heartbeat if they thought it would benefit them. Which meant he had to keep them happy—or as happy as he could, at least—too.

  Wonderful.

  “I think Nathan has a point,” Omosupe Quartermain said. She didn’t much like MacArtney, and she didn’t sound very happy about supporting him, but the permanent senior undersecretary of commerce was probably the only person hearing more from nervous transstellars than he was. “I just have this feeling the avalanche is still accelerating,” she continued, looking around at the holographic faces of the electronic conference room. “It’s only going to get worse and worse, at least for the immediate future, and if we don’t do something to at least slow it down, we may run out of time to do anything else.”

  Wodoslawski looked at her colleague, and Kolokoltsov’s heart sank as the permanent senior undersecretary of the treasury nodded slowly. The nature of Wodoslawski and Quartermain’s responsibilities meant the two female Mandarins ended up supporting one another more often than not, and Kolokoltsov didn’t like the way he thought this was headed.

  “What would you like us to do to try and slow it up, Omosupe?” Malachai Abruzzi asked.

  “I don’t know,” Quartermain admitted. She raised her right hand, waving it in an uncharacteristically helpless, worried gesture. “I just know that if we let Beowulf do this, if we just stand back and wave goodbye, we’re establishing a precedent. The exact kind of precedent Nathan’s worrying about where the Shell systems are concerned. Right this minute, the jury’s still out on whether or not Beowulf really does have the constitutional right to leave. But if we let them go, aren’t we saying for all the galaxy to see that they do? And if they do, then every member system does!”

  “Maybe, but the simple truth of the matter is that we can’t stop them,” Abruzzi pointed out with unwonted gentleness. “They’ve got to have a hundred or so Manty SDs sitting on top of the Beowulf Terminus right this minute. After what happened to Filareta, we all know what would happen if we got into shooting range of them, too.” He shrugged. “That constitutes a pretty conclusive rejoinder as to whether or not we have the ‘right’ to stop them, I’m afraid.”

  “But the fact that we can’t stop them doesn’t mean we have to condone their actions,” MacArtney said, his expression mulish.

  “Meaning what?” Kolokoltsov asked.

  “Meaning we don’t have to admit their actions are legal.” MacArtney tapped an index finger on his desk for emphasis. “We can condemn them, announce that they’re illegal, and that we intend to take firm action at the earliest possible moment.”

  “Which will only underscore the fact that we can’t take any kind of ‘firm action’ right now,” Abruzzi retorted. “It’d make us look ridiculous, Nathan!”

  “Maybe, and maybe not,” Quartermain said, her expression suddenly hopeful. “Oh, I agree it would underscore the fact that we can’t take action against Beowulf, but the entire League knows Beowulf’s in a very special astrographic position, thanks to its direct connection to Manticore. Most people understand how that limits our options where it’s concerned. But if we make that our guiding principle, then we’ll have positioned ourselves to react…more forcefully in the case of star systems we can actually reach.”

  “Basically, you’re saying we reject anyone’s right to secede, whatever they may think the Constitution says, and use force to prevent any additional secessions?” Wodoslawski said with the air of a woman wanting to be certain there was no confusion on the point.

  “If we have to,” Quartermain replied unflinchingly. “I don’t like the thought, and, frankly, there are a lot of potential secessionist systems we probably couldn’t reach militarily. But we’d be able to reach a lot of them, and if they don’t have the super missiles the Manties and the Havenites do, Frontier Fleet should be more than capable of keeping
them in line.”

  “We probably could,” Abruzzi conceded. “It’d be hard to spin that as anything except us using the iron fist, though. I mean, after everything else we’ve already had to throw out there in the ’faxes since this thing began.”

  “Well, if we’re going to take the position that Beowulf has no right to secede,” MacArtney said, “then Hadley and the rest of their delegation have just committed treason.” He smiled nastily. “That being the case, I think they should be arrested and prevented from leaving the system!”

  Oh, that’s a marvelous idea, Kolokoltsov thought bitterly.

  “Nathan’s probably right,” Quartermain put in, and Wodoslawski was nodding again.

  “And if we’re talking about arresting the bastards for treason over this secession crap,” MacArtney went on, “I think we should consider whether or not their decision to harbor Carmichael doesn’t constitute another act of treason!” His smile was even uglier than before. “If we put the arm on them, then we’re in a position to put the arm on him, as well.”

  “Whoa! Just slow down, Nathan!” Abruzzi said sharply. “If we start throwing terms like ‘treason’ around now, and start strong-arming Assembly delegates before this plebiscite of theirs has even been voted on, the rest of the delegates are going to raise merry hell. Not because they’re all that fond of Beowulf, either! You think they won’t see that as a precedent that could come home to bite them, too?”

  “I’m not so sure it would be a bad thing if they did,” MacArtney shot back. “If they figure out we’re going to hammer anybody who looks like turning on us, then they’ll probably think twice—or even three times!—about doing just that.”

  “This isn’t the Verge, and we’re not talking about OFS protectorates,” Abruzzi said flatly. “We’re talking about Core Worlds. We’re talking about star systems that have the internal industry to build significant navies of their own if the urge strikes them. We’re already looking at a confrontation against somebody whose weapons technology we can’t match, and you want to go around irritating our own star systems into deciding they have to build a military capability to protect themselves from us?”

  The permanent senior undersecretary of education and information shook his head, his expression incredulous, and MacArtney flushed angrily. He opened his mouth to snap something back, but Kolokoltsov raised one hand in a “stop” gesture.

  “Calm down, Nathan. And you, Malachai.” He shook his head. “You and Omosupe and Agatá have raised valid concerns, Nathan. But Malachai has a point, too. If we start resorting to the kind of tactics you’re suggesting, we up the ante for everybody, and right this minute, we can’t afford that.”

  “We can’t afford not to,” MacArtney replied stubbornly, and Quartermain nodded. Wodoslawski seemed more torn, however, Kolokoltsov noted. “If we don’t get our heel firmly on this kind of thing now, we never will.”

  “But Malachai’s right that we can’t get our heel on it right now,” Kolokoltsov said inflexibly. “We literally can’t. So if we try to grab Hadley and Carmichael, we only run the risk of alienating the other Core Worlds at a time when our weakness is going to be obvious to everyone. Especially when grabbing Hadley and Carmichael is the only thing we can do, because we sure as hell aren’t going to be able to follow through by arresting the rest of the Beowulf system government!”

  He shook his head.

  “No. We can’t make this about whether or not secession is legal. Not now. That’s something we’re going to have to address later, but it’s not anything we want to go anywhere near at a moment when we know other Core Worlds are at least considering it.”

  “We don’t have any choice,” McCartney began, “and if you think—”

  “Wait, Nathan,” Wodoslawski interrupted, gazing intently at Kolokoltsov. The permanent senior undersecretary of the interior looked affronted, but he also closed his mouth, and Wodoslawski cocked her head to one side.

  “What did you mean ‘we can’t make this about whether or not secession is legal,’ Innokentiy?” she asked.

  “I mean we have to make it about whether or not Beowulf’s actions threaten the security of the League in general and the Core Worlds in particular, instead,” Kolokoltsov replied. “I think we have to take a more or less hands-off position on the entire issue of secession’s legality for the moment. That’s something we should probably hand over to Reid and Neng once they get the inquiry into Beowulf’s collaboration with Manticore underway. I’m sure Reid will be able to come up with a whole stack of legal precedents he can convincingly claim have invalidated a supposed ‘constitutional right’ nobody’s exercised in seven hundred years! Jurisprudence and living constitutional law have moved on, you know.”

  He smiled, and Abruzzi actually chuckled out loud. Even MacArtney looked a little more thoughtful.

  “At that point,” Kolokoltsov continued, “we argue that secession from the League isn’t legal, but for now we formally reserve judgment on the subject. We make it clear we’re not conceding that Beowulf has the right to leave, but that we’re not prepared to make an ugly situation even worse until there’s been time for the courts to rule on whether or not their actions are legal.”

  “We let the erring sister go—for now, at least—more in sorrow than in anger, you mean?” Abruzzi asked, his eyes narrowed in thought. “And when we do, we leave ourselves the option of deciding later that Beowulf was wrong and taking whatever remedial action seems appropriate then?”

  “More or less.” Kolokoltsov nodded. “What I’m trying to do here is to defang the emotional aspects of the issue. I’d love to get this resolved before anybody else starts holding referendums on secession, you understand, but I doubt we’re going to be that lucky. So what I’m looking to do right this minute is to avoid handing any extra ammunition to the people who’d be likely to agitate for secession in the referendums we may not be able to prevent in the first place.”

  MacArtney and Quartermain still looked profoundly unhappy, but Wodoslawski actually looked a bit hopeful, Kolokoltsov thought.

  “All well and good,” MacArtney growled after a moment, “but it doesn’t do diddley about Beowulf right now.”

  No, and it’s not going to make any of those transstellars any happier with you, either. Not right now, at least, Kolakowski thought trenchantly. Unfortunately, all we can do is all we can do!

  “I’m not saying we shouldn’t take any action at all against Beowulf, Nathan,” the permanent senior undersecretary for foreign affairs said coolly. “Mind you, I’m not sure what kind of action we’re going to be in a position to take, but I’m in favor of doing anything we realistically can. I just don’t want it to be over the legality or illegality of secession at this point.”

  “That’s what you meant about not making it about whether or not secession is legal,” Wodoslawski said.

  “Exactly.” Kolokoltsov tipped back in his chair. “I think we need to get Kingsford in here, let him take a look at any military options we may have—workable military options, I mean—where Beowulf is concerned. If there’s one that will work, I’m entirely in favor of using it, but not because they illegally seceded from the League. At this point what we need to do is to make it over the security threat to the League Beowulf represents because of its association with the League’s avowed enemies. As Omosupe said, everybody knows about Beowulf’s effective proximity to Manticore. That means everybody knows Beowulf does, indeed, represent that ‘invasion highway’ Nathan was talking about. We’d be fully justified in taking military action against any star nation that was in a position to enable a Manty invasion of the very heart of the Solarian League. I don’t think they’d be remotely stupid enough to do it, you understand, but we can make an ironclad case for taking action to deprive them of the capability to do it. But making certain that they can’t would be a simple matter of self-defense, and one we’d have no choice but to pursue. We’d be derelict in our responsibilities to the rest of the League if we didn’t!”


  “Which lets us hammer Beowulf as hard as we want—assuming we can find a way to do it, that is—without ever even touching the question of secession!” Abruzzi said enthusiastically.

  “Exactly,” Kolokoltsov repeated. “And, Nathan, there’s no way anyone out in the Shell who might be thinking in terms of seceding is going to miss the subtext. There won’t be a single official word about secession in anything we have to say on the subject, but everyone will hear it anyway.”

  “And once the immediate furor dies down, Reid and Neng’s committee reports back that Beowulf’s actions were treasonous before it seceded,” Wodoslawski said thoughtfully.

  “After which Reid produces the precedents to establish that the right of secession’s lapsed with the passage of time,” Abruzzi said, nodding energetically.

  There was silence for several seconds, then MacArtney shrugged irritably.

  “I don’t like it,” he grumbled. “We’re still pussyfooting around the issue, and a lot of people are going to realize it.”

  “I agree with you, Nathan,” Quartermain said, “but I think Innokentiy and Malachai have made some valid points, too.” She shrugged. “Given the practical limits on what we can actually do at the moment, I’m afraid I’m going to have to side with them. But”—she glared suddenly at the others—“whatever our justification for going after Beowulf, we need to do it just as hard and just as quickly as humanly possible. Because Nathan’s got a point, too, people. The situation in the Verge is going to go straight to hell on us, no matter what we do, but the last thing we need is to have the Shell going up in flames right along with it. We need to get a handle on this, and we need to do it fast!”

  * * *

  “You’re kidding me,” Irene Teague said, staring at Daud al-Fanudahi. The two of them sat on benches across a small outdoor table from one another, eating their lunch as the warm summer sun spilled down across them. Lake Michigan’s waters stretched limitlessly towards the horizon below the restaurant perched on a two hundredth-floor balcony of the Admiralty building, and gaily colored sails and powerboats dotted that dark blue expanse as far as the eye could see.