“The death-images of our own ships are no less revealing. They illustrate how the humans are typically destroying us: by overwhelming our defenses. They harry us with drones, degrade our vessels by disabling one subsystem after another, and then—with our defenses dedicated to eliminating the most proximal threats—they strike their killing blow from longer range.” His claw-embedded laser pointer traced a bright line from the exploding shift cruiser to a small, bright, white sphere in a corner of the starfield. “What you see here, so small in the distance, is the detonation of what the humans call a ‘nuke-pumped’ X-ray laser. These are their ship-killers, Hu’urs Khraam, the ones to which our human collaborators alerted us. They are fabulously expensive and wasteful weapons, mounted on an overlarge drone and easily distinguishable from regular drones at close and medium ranges. But as our scanners become overwhelmed by the unprecedented number of human drones and decoys, they become unable to find all of these threats in time.”
“Still,” objected First Fist, “you are destroying at least two ships of theirs for every one of your own. You are prevailing.”
“For now, yes. But we cannot retroboost and match vector with the first echelon to capitalize upon our successes, because the second echelon is following close upon it. And I warn you, Hu’urs Khraam, I suspect that the first echelon was merely the chisel; the hammer is only now approaching.”
“Why do you say this, Speaker Kut? Because there are more ships in the second echelon?”
“That is the lesser part of my worry, First Delegate. Our analysts have been monitoring the rate at which the human first echelon has been expending these X-ray laser missiles I have just shown you. Since they did not lose these munitions at Barnard’s Star and we conjecture that some of the concealed drones launched from hidden sites on the Moon must be of this kind, we expected our enemy to employ more of these than he has.”
Yaargraukh’s rumble was grim. “So, you suspect that it is their second echelon which shall deploy this increased firepower.”
“Precisely.” Darzhee Kut turned, pointed to the second, vast wave of red blips in the holoplot. “The second echelon is much larger than the first. It has many more platforms from which to optimally launch and control such missiles, and more drones to confound and overwhelm our defenses. And they have two other profound advantages that the first echelon did not enjoy.”
Yaargraukh pony-nodded. “They have broken up our formation and, at the same time, may be relatively sure we have no new tricks or technologies with which to confound them. For we would certainly have used them to ensure a more favorable outcome with the first echelon.”
“Exactly,” agreed Darzhee Kut, who then turned to stare at Riordan. “I suspect this was the strategic intent of the humans’ three-echelon battle plan. Does that sound correct, Mr. Riordan?”
“I cannot say. Obviously, I was not involved in, nor made privy to, any of the military planning for this counterattack. However,” and he let a slight smile slip, “your conjecture is eminently plausible.”
Hu’urs Khraam shifted on his platform-couch. “So. We have scored a marginal victory in space, but have yet to fight the much larger of what will be at least two battles. And here on the planet, we now find ourselves ringed by submersibles equipped with nuclear weapons which the humans have proven they will fire at their own possessions and populations, given sufficient provocation.” He turned to face Darzhee Kut directly. “And so I ask again, Speaker Kut. When I forbade renewing negotiations with the humans, was I too hasty?”
Caine watched Darzhee Kut seem to contract as every exosapient eye in the room turned toward him. In the Arat Kur’s position, Caine was quite sure he would not enjoy the sensation, either.
Chapter Forty-Six
Presidential Palace, Jakarta, Earth
Darzhee Kut felt all the eyes upon him as he offered his counsel to Hu’urs Khraam. “Esteemed Hu’urs Khraam, you were not rash to refuse to negotiate with the humans, given what we knew then. But perhaps this new information must make us reconsider speaking with them.”
Graagkhruud’s interjection was, quite literally, a snarl. “We should only be speaking to them to demand their immediate surrender.”
“First Fist Graagkhruud, why would they surrender at this moment? We are unable to intercept all their missiles and air vehicles and submarine launches. Whatever we choose to do, they will still have options remaining which might defeat us. They attrited our PDF intercept capability so that our groundside forces have to rely on orbital interdiction support for survival—and now, with half our fleet off to engage the human fleet, we simply do not have enough assets to do so.”
“So, despite all your promises and assurances—that human technology was inferior and yours was far more advanced—it turns out that they have the better technology.” Graagkhruud seemed pleased with himself, vindicated, as he said it.
An accusation scooped from the useless slurry of your own speciate insecurity, you impetuous and recidivistic predator. “Their technology is not better than ours, although it is far more diverse. But that was not what has tipped the balance this day.”
First Voice spoke before Graagkhruud could manage to respond. “Then what has, Speaker Kut?”
“Honored First Voice, the humans make war far more frequently than the Arat Kur. And, if my surmise is correct, in far more ways than either of us. And while the human megacorporations did provide us with complete data on the planet’s warfighting equipment, they were ill-suited to providing us with a comprehensive compendium of its operational alternatives. Besides, many of the tactics being employed by the humans are either wholly unprecedented, or being expressed in unique combinations that defy any simple understanding drawn from historical precedents.”
“We have a saying,” Caine offered quietly, “that general staffs are always preparing to fight the last war, not the next one.”
Graagkhruud snarled. “The simple truth is that the brilliant Arat Kur cannot think as quickly as warriors must.”
“Darzhee Kut’s insight and patience are praiseworthy,” Hu’urs Khraam inserted into the uncomfortable silence, and Graagkhruud either missed or ignored the implied rebuke, “but now I must ask that you allow him to attend to my question. Was I rash in rejecting the human offer of negotiation?”
“Not rash, Esteemed Hu’urs Khraam, but we may be running out of time. We might still have enough PDF and orbital interdiction left to protect us here, but the humans’ actions increasingly erode the former and overtax the latter. We might be able to hold out until our counterattacking flotilla returns, which would double our interdiction capability. However, if the flotilla does not triumph against the human fleet, then our only remaining relief is our Belt Fleet, and they will not arrive in time to salvage the situation.”
Hu’urs Khraam settled into his couch. “So, logically, we should await the outcome of the current fleet battle. If we prevail, as we should, we will still hold the upper hand.”
Riordan shook his head. “That is why my side will not wait for the outcome of that battle. If we lose there, we have lost our only reasonable hope of permanently regaining control in either Java, or in space. My side must use its present advantage, meaning that if you do not negotiate now, they will destroy your ground forces—and much of Indonesia—while they still may.”
First Voice rose up. “Hu’urs Khraam, Riordan’s analysis is without error. But whereas he intends it to scare you into negotiation, I assert it should fix our resolve to strike the humans first.”
“First Voice of the First Family, we agreed not to use nuclear weapons against—”
“You will hear me. We still have an undamaged half-fleet in orbit. The humans cannot strike at those ships yet, so we may still win the war swiftly and decisively by destroying five of their greatest cities and bloc capitols with a deluge of kinetic kill devices. Let us say New York, Beijing, Tokyo, Berlin, Moscow. The moment after this is achieved, we send the ultimatum we should have sent when we first arrive
d: capitulate or die by the billions. The humans will not resist further. Their cities would be ash by the time their fleet arrives, should it be so fortunate as to win the day against your ships.”
Graagkhruud’s enthusiasm was palpable. “This is plain truth and the path to victory. And if the humans threaten to overwhelm us here while this is transpiring, it is of no consequence.”
“Indeed? You so gladly accept death?”
“Spoken like the grubber you are. Of course I do not welcome death. I merely say we must fight as warriors should: on the attack, giving no quarter, using all weapons against any opponents.”
“You propose to slaughter them all, including noncombatants and innocents?”
“It would be a slaughter if there were any noncombatants or innocents, if we struck humans down where they crouched in supplication. But the humans do not know this posture nor this behavior. They are all combatants. Consequently, they have dug the den in which they must live. They must all be slain until they all capitulate. And if we move forth from our compounds using incendiary weapons, leveling those areas of the cities we do not control, even local resistance will quickly come to an end.” He turned toward Caine, tongue flicking. “Do you deny it, liar?”
Riordan looked up when the Hkh’Rkh addressed him as “liar.” The difference in their size and mass made the human’s response either comical or dangerously insane. “Do you challenge me, First Fist?”
Graagkhruud’s tongue whipped out and about like a stabbed snake. He huffed once in his chest. “You flatter yourself, s’fet. You are not a being and so, have no honor, despite the way Yaargraukh addresses you and despite First Voice’s generous toleration of that. I would smear my name and my family to even acknowledge you.”
Caine smiled and for some reason, Darzhee Kut found that expression more fearful than anything he had ever seen on the long face of any Hkh’Rkh. “How fortunate for you that I may not be Challenged, or make Challenge, Graagkhruud.”
The Hkh’Rkh leapt toward him, claws up.
Hu’urs Khraam shrilled. “Predator, you would slay an ambassador? Here, in our presence, without consulting us?” First Voice restrained First Fist as Hu’urs Khraam settled down in his couch again, but continued in the same tone. “This impetuosity, this dance your species does with death, it is not just in your actions of the moment. It is also in these plans you speak of now.”
First Voice reared up. “These ‘impetuous’ plans will win this war.”
“No. They will win this battle—but in doing so, will most certainly lose the war. For when the Custodians learn what you would have us do here, they will ban our races from space. Do not mistake me, First Voice. I harbor no tender feelings for the humans. You may find, when you know us better, that we have stronger and longer reasons to loathe humans than you ever will.” Only Darzhee Kut saw Caine’s eyes become suddenly sharp when Hu’urs Khraam uttered the word “longer.” “But,” continued the First Delegate, “that does not change the fact that so far as we know, we must still answer to the Custodians.”
“Besides,” Darzhee hastily interjected, “whose fault is it that we teeter on this unseen brink? The humans’? Did they invade our systems?”
“Not yet,” amended Graagkhruud.
“And perhaps they never would have. Now, we will never know. But if they had, would they have attacked our homeworld?” Darzhee Kut turned to face his leader. “You are right to fear the Dornaani, Esteemed Hu’urs Khraam, but also fear what this deed would make us. Worse than the humans. And remember this—and you answer too, First Voice. If we do this, and if we then leave any of the humans alive, anywhere, what do you think they will do?”
Yaargraukh reared back. “They would hunt our races down until we are no more. They will not forgive, they will not forget, they will not stop. Darzhee Kut is right: if we take this step, it is not the last leap we take into the darkness. It is but the first plunge into a campaign of unremitting genocide—and if we do not finish the atrocity we begin, they will surely finish us.”
“Just so,” affirmed Darzhee Kut. “The humans will hunt us down until they have made our homerock magma and ashes. And to prevent them from doing so, we would need to hunt them down on all their other worlds. So, once we are done here, let us also be resolved to lay waste to Alpha Centauri, to Epsilon Indi, to Delta Pavonis, to Beta Hydri, Zeta Tucanae, and p-Eridani, for you will need to destroy them all, one by one, if you are to finish the atrocity you would start.”
Yaargraukh’s voice was grim. “As if the Dornaani would let us.”
First Voice’s tone was measured, careful. “The Dornaani are not here, have not come. You start at shadows that your own mind has conjured, Advocate.”
“Do I, First Voice? Tell me, if the Dornaani have not been exterminated, can they allow this—and us—to stand?”
Darzhee Kut clicked his claws, signaling an amplification of Yaargraukh’s point. “First Voice, do not mistake Dornaani calm for indecisiveness. They will not hesitate to use force. They fought horrible wars before any of us saw the heavens as something other than a place of myths and gods. They will not abide what you are contemplating.”
“There may be none left to object,” observed First Voice, “if the Ktorans’ war against them has gone as planned.”
Yaargraukh reared up. “Are you willing to make that wager, First Voice of the First Family? And what do we gain even if you win it? A commitment to destroy green worlds and a whole race in a war that even now ceases to have any honor in it? And if you lose the wager? Do you wish to be known as the Hkhi whose gamble resulted in our permanent expulsion, even quarantine, from contact with other races? And if we cannot accept such a fate placidly, what then might the Dornaani feel compelled to do? Exterminate us?”
Hu’urs Khraam’s voice was quiet. “No. They will—change—you.”
The Hkh’Rkh crests all rose. First Voice growled. “What do you mean?”
The First Delegate raised a didactic claw. “The Dornaani would not initiate genocide; they have sworn an oath against it. But altering your species through selective and successive retroviruses, foods that are engineered to rebalance your hormones, asymptomatic epidemics that, initially unnoticed, sterilize ninety percent of your females. These passive controls they would indeed use.”
Yaargraukh turned to First Voice. “And this risk is worth the profit and glory of a race exterminated from orbit without honor, half a dozen ruined worlds, and no promise of new lands? What nature of gamble is this, First Voice?”
“Then what is to be done?” Graagkhruud asked.
Yaargraukh let the phlegm roll long and contemptuous in his nostrils. “Fight and die, First Fist. Or leave. The choice is yours, and I am indifferent to your deliberations. I will take my place among the defenders, for I have no more counsel to offer. By your leave, First Voice.” Who bobbed once, curtly. Yaargraukh turned and left.
Graagkhruud’s chest was a sustained rumble. “His insolence warrants death.”
First Voice looked after him. “And his courage and honesty earns honor. We will let events help us decide which it should be, for I cannot decree both. But you may point out to him that a creature with great honor and honesty must always be ready to serve the First Voice in any way required, and such readiness is now paramount. And if he fails in his oaths, he must be ready to answer for that failure, to accept any Challenge. Any Challenge, from any Challenger—First Fist.” First Voice looked at Graagkhruud, long and silently.
Who lowered his eyes and put his clenched fist low on his barrellike chest. “Your vassal hears and understands, suzerain.” Graagkhruud hunch-bowed himself out of the command center.
Darzhee Kut buzzed mildly. “So what is decided?”
Hu’urs Khraam’s claws snipped the air restively. “Even though the magma rises around us, I am reluctant to contemplate withdrawal. But—”
First Voice reared up to his full 2.2 meters. “The Hkh’Rkh do not flee. We fight until we win or die.”
&
nbsp; “And if an honorable withdrawal is negotiated?”
“Let that be sought and crafted by creatures who find no inherent contradiction in linking the word ‘honorable’ with ‘withdrawal.’” First Voice leaned down, warbling phlegm. “But know that if an ‘ally’ once abandons us, we will neither forget, nor forgive, it. I leave to inspect our defenses. I return soon.” He loped out, ears flattened and quivering. His retinue was a broad, swaggering wake behind him.
The sensor specialist signaled he had an update. Urzueth Ragh glanced at it, then chattered, “Esteemed Hu’urs Khraam, the enemy continues launching air vehicles. Their transatmospheric interceptors are climbing up beyond twenty-five kilometers, but their ascent is atypically slow.”
“That’s because they’re not attacking—yet.”
Darzhee Kut and the other Arat Kur cadre turned to look at Caine. Hu’urs Khraam bobbed toward him. “I invite your explanation, Speaker Riordan. Why would your commanders launch a wave of interceptors if they do not mean to assault our ships in orbit?”
Darzhee Kut recognized Caine’s smile as being one which, paradoxically, did not signify either happiness or amusement. “Oh, if the military commanders were in charge of this launch, I’m sure they’d be filling your hulls with nukes by now. No, this is a politically managed maneuver.”
“To what end?”
“To give you enough time to realize that although you are not in immediate danger, the threats are rapidly increasing. And to give them an opportunity to discover whether, in the face of those threats, you will react aggressively or comply.”
“Comply?” mused Hu’urs Khraam.
Darzhee Kut understood. “Comply with the warning the humans issued at the end of their last communiqué: ‘if you attempt orbital interdiction against any of our air units, we will launch a nuclear attack directly against your two major compounds in Jakarta and Surabaja.’”
Trial by Fire Page 54
