WORLDWAR:
IN
THE
BALANCE
Harry Turtledove
A Del Rey® Book
BALLANTINE BOOKS • NEW YORK
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In the Balance
Table of Contents
Title Page
Dramatis Personae
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Chapter VII
Chapter VIII
Chapter IX
Chapter X
Chapter XI
Chapter XII
Chapter XIII
Chapter XIV
Chapter XV
Chapter XVI
Chapter XVII
Chapter XVIII
Chapter XIX
Chapter XX
Copyright
Tilting the Balance
Table of Contents
Cover Page
Title Page
Dramatis Personae
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Chapter VII
Chapter VIII
Chapter IX
Chapter X
Chapter XI
Chapter XII
Chapter XIII
Chapter XIV
Chapter XV
Chapter XVI
Chapter XVII
Chapter XVIII
Chapter XIX
Chapter XX
About the Author
By Harry Turtledove
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Copyright
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
(Characters with names in CAPS are historical, others fictional)
HUMANS
Aloysius captive in Fiat, Indiana
ANIELEWICZ, MORDECHAI guerrilla leader in the Warsaw ghetto
Arenswald, Michael engineer Heavy Artillery Battalion Dora
Bagnall, George flight engineer in RAF bomber crew
Bauer, Klaus hull gunner in Heinrich Jäger’s tank
Becker, Karl engineer Heavy Artillery Battalion Dora
Bell, Douglas bomb-aimer in RAF bomber crew
BOR-KOMOROWSKI, TADEUSZ general, Polish Home Army
Brodsky, Nathan Jewish laborer at Warsaw airport
Burkett, Dr. biology professor at University of Chicago.
Chase, Otto cement plant worker at Dixon, Illinois
CHURCHILL, WINSTON prime minister of Great Britain
Collins, Colonel U.S. Army officer
COMPTON, ARTHUR supervisor, University of Chicago Metallurgical Laboratory
Daniels, Pete “Mutt” manager, Decatur Commodores (I-I-I League)
Daphne barmaid at the White Horse Inn, Dover, England
David child of Jewish fighter, Warsaw
Doi, Colonel Japanese interrogator of Teerts
Donlan, Kevin U.S. Army private in Naperville, Illinois
Embry, Ken pilot of RAF bomber crew
FERMI, ENRICO nuclear physicist at the University of Chicago Metallurgical Laboratory
Finkelstein, Sam doctor
Fiore, Bobby second baseman, Decatur Commodores (I-I-I League)
Fuchs, Stefan loader in Heinrich Jäger’s tank
Goldfarb, David RAF radarman in Dover England
Gorbunova, Ludmila Red Air Force pilot
Gordon captive in Fiat, Indiana
GROVES, LESLIE U.S. Army colonel
HITLER, ADOLF German Führer
Höcker, Maximilian lieutenant colonel, German Army, Paris
HULL, CORDELL U.S. secretary of state
Jacobi, Nathan BBC newsreader
Jäger, Heinrich major Sixteenth Panzer Division
Jones, Jerome RAF radarman in Dover England
Karpov, Feofan Red Air Force colonel
Kasherina, Yevdokia Red Air Force pilot
Kobayashi, Lieutenant-Colonel Japanese interrogator of Teerts
Kraniinov, Viktor Red Army lieutenant colonel in Moscow
Lane, Edward “Ted” radioman in RI4F bomber crew
Larssen, Barbara graduate student in medieval literature; Jens’ wife
Larssen, Jens nuclear physicist, University of Chicago Metallurgical Laboratory
Leah Jewish fighter in Warsaw
Lejb Jew in Hrubieszów, Poland
Lidov, Boris NKVD lieutenant colonel, Moscow
Liu Han Chinese peasant woman
Marie captive in Fiat, Indiana
MARSHALL, GEORGE U.S. Army Chief of Staff
Max Jew who survived Babi Yar; Soviet partisan
MOLOTOV, VYACHESLAV foreign commissar of the USSR
Okamoto, Major Japanese interpreter and interrogator of Teerts
Old Sun tailor in China
PATTON, GEORGE U.S. Army major general
Pavlyuchenko, Kliment kolkhoz (collective farm) headman in the Ukraine
Popova, Yelena Red Air Force major
RIBBENTROP, JOACHIM VON German foreign minister
Riecke, Ernst captain, Sixteenth Panzer Division
Risberg, Buck soldier in Aurora, illinois
Rodney captive in Fiat, Indiana
Russie, Moishe ex-medical student in the Warsaw ghetto
Russie, Reuven Moishe Russie ‘s son
Russie, Rivka Moishe Russie’s wife
Sal captive in Fiat, Indiana
Sanders, Charlie black man feeding soldiers in Naperville, Illinois
Schmidt, Dieter driver of Heinrich Jäger’s tank
Schneider, Sergeant U.S. Army recruiting sergeant
Schultz, Georg gunner of Heinrich Jäger’s tank
Sebring, Gerald nuclear physicist, University of Chicago Metallurgical Laboratory
Simpkin, Joe rear gunner in RAF bomber crew
SKORZENY, OTTO SS Hauptstürmfuhrer
Spiegel, Michael German Army lieutenant colonel in Satu Mare, Romania
Stansfield, Roger Royal Navy commander; CO of HMS Seanymph
Sullivan, Joe pitcher Decatur Commodores (I-I-I League)
Sylvia barmaid at the White Horse Inn, Dover England
SZILARD, LEO nuclear physicist, University of Chicago Metallurgical Laboratory
THOMSEN, HANS German ambassador to the United States
Thomsen, Pete reporter on the Rockford Courier-Journal
TOGO, SHIGENORI Japanese foreign minister
Tompkins, Charlie mechanic in Strasburg, Ohio
Virgil sailor on the merchant ship Caledonia
Wagner, Eddie U.S. Army private near Delphi, Indiana
Whyte, Alf navigator in RAF bomber crew
Yeager, Sam outfielder Decatur Commodores (I-I-I League)
Yi Min Chinese apothecary
Yossel Jewish fighter in Poland
ZINN, WALT nuclear physicist, University of Chicago Metallurgical Laboratory
THE RACE
Atvar fleetlord, invasion fleet
Breltan radar technician, 67th Emperor Sohrheb
Drefsab intelligence operator on Atvar’s staff
Erewlo subleader, communications section
Feneress shiplord--member of Straha’s faction
Gefron killercraft pilot, flight leader
Gnik outpost commander at Fiat, Indiana
Hassov shiplord--member of Kirel’s faction
Horrep shiplord--member of Straha’s faction
Kirel shiplord, 127th Emperor Hetto
&n
bsp; Krefak missile battery officer
Krentel landcruiser commander
Mozzten shiplord based in U.S.A.
Relek shiplord 16th Emperor Osjess
Relhost assault force commander in attack on Chicago
Ristin soldier captured by U.S. Army
Rolvar killercraft pilot
Shonar shiplord--member of Straha’s faction
Ssofeg prison-camp official in China
Straha shiplord 206th Emperor Yower
Svallah artillery supervisor in the attack on Chicago
Teerts killercraft pilot, flight leader
Telerep landcruiser gunner
Tessrek senior psychologist
Ullhass soldier captured by U.S. Army
Ussmak landcruiser driver
Votal landcruiser commander
Xarol killercraft pilot
Zingiber Northern Flank Commander in the attack on Chicago
Zolraag governor of Warsaw
1
Fleetlord Atvar strode briskly into the command station of the invasion fleet bannership 127th Emperor Hetto. Officers stiffened in their seats as he came in. But for the way his eye turrets swiveled in their sockets, one to the left, the other to the right, he ignored them. Yet had any been so foolish as to omit the proper respect, he would have noticed—and remembered.
Shiplord Kirel, his body paint less elaborate only than Atvar’s, joined him at the projector. As Atvar did every morning, he said, “Let us examine the target.” Kirel served the fleetlord by touching the control with his own index claw. A blue and gray and white sphere sprang into being, a perfect representation of a life-bearing world floating in space.
All the officers turned both eyes toward the hologram. Atvar, as was his custom, walked around the projector to view it from all sides: Kirel followed him. When they were back where they had begun, Atvar ran out a bifurcated tongue. “Cold-looking place,” the fleetlord said, as he usually did. “Cold and wet.”
“Yet it will serve the Race and the Emperor,” Kirel replied. When he spoke those words, the rest of the officers returned to their assigned tasks; the morning ritual was over. Kirel went on, “Pity such a hot white star as Tosev has hatched so chilly an egg.”
“Pity indeed,” Atvar agreed. That chilly world revolved around a star more than twice as bright as the sun under which he’d been raised. Unfortunately, it did so toward the outer edge of the biosphere. Not only did Tosev 3 have too much free water, it even had frozen water on the ground here and there. In the Empire’s three current worlds, frozen water was rare outside the laboratory.
Kirel said, “Even if Tosev 3 is colder on average than what we’re used to, Fleetlord, we won’t have any real trouble living there, and parts will be very pleasant.” He opened his jaws slightly to display small, sharp, even teeth. “And the natives should give us no difficulty.”
“By the Emperor, that’s true.” Though his sovereign was light-years away, Atvar automatically cast both eyes down to the floor for a moment. So did Kirel. Then Atvar opened his jaws, too, sharing the shiplord’s amusement. “Show me the picture sequence from the probe once more.”
“It shall be done.” Kirel poked delicately at the projector controls. Tosev 3 vanished, to be replaced by a typical inhabitant: a biped with a red-brown skin, rather taller than a typical male of the Race. The biped wore a strip of cloth round its midsection and carried a bow and several stone-tipped arrows. Black fur sprouted from the top of its head
The biped vanished. Another took its place, this one swaddled from head to foot in robes of dirty grayish tan. A curved iron sword hung from a leather belt at its waist. Beside it stood a brown-furred riding animal with a long neck and a hump on its back.
Atvar pointed to the furry animal, then to the biped’s robes. “Even the native creatures have to protect themselves from Tosev 3’s atrocious climate.” He ran a hand down the smooth, glistening scales of his arm.
More bipeds appeared in holographic projection, some with black skins, some golden brown, some a reddish color so light it was almost pink. As the sequence moved on, Kirel opened his jaws in amusement once more. He pointed to the projector. “Behold—now!—the fearsome warrior of Tosev 3.”
“Hold that image. Let everyone, look closely at it,” Atvar commanded.
“It shall be done.” Kirel stopped the flow of images. Every officer in the command station swiveled one eye toward the image, though most kept the other on the tasks before them.
Atvar laughed silently as he studied the Tosevite fighter. This native belonged to the pinkish race, though only one hand and his face were visible to testify to that. Protective gear covered the rest of him almost as comprehensively as had the earlier biped’s robes. A pointed iron helmet with several dents sat on top of his head. He wore a suit of rather rusty mail that reached almost to his knees, and heavy leather boots below them. A flimsy coat of bluish stuff helped keep the sun off the mail.
The animal the biped rode, a somewhat more graceful relative of the humped creature, looked bored with the whole business. An iron-headed spear projected upward from the biped’s seat. His other armament included a straight sword, a knife, and a shield with a cross painted on it.
“How well do you think his kind is likely to stand up to bullets, armored fighting vehicles, aircraft?” Atvar asked rhetorically. The officers all laughed, looking forward to an easy conquest, to adding a fourth planet and solar system to the dominions of the Emperor.
Not to be outdone in enthusiasm by his commander, Kirel added, “These are recent images, too: they date back only about sixteen hundred years.” He paused to poke at a calculator. “That would be about eight hundred of Tosev 3’s revolutions. And how much, my fellow warriors, how much can a world change in a mere eight hundred revolutions?”
The officers laughed again, more widely this time. Atvar laughed with them. The history of the Race was more than a hundred thousand years deep; the Ssumaz dynasty had held the throne for almost half that time, ever since techniques for ensuring male heirs were worked out. Under the Ssumaz Emperors, the Race took Rabotev 2 twenty-eight thousand years ago, and seized Halless 1 eighteen thousand years after that. Now’ it was Tosev 3’s turn. The pace of conquest was quickening, Atvar thought.
“Carry on, servants of the Emperor,” the fleetlord said. The officers stiffened once more as he left the command station.
He was back in his suite, busy with the infinite minutiae that accompanied command, when his door buzzer squawked. He looked up from the computer screen with a start. No one was scheduled to interrupt him at this time, and the Race did not lightly break routine. Emergency in space was improbable in the extreme, but who would dare disturb him for anything less?
“Enter,” he growled.
The junior officer who came into the suite looked nervous; his tail stump twitched and his eyes swiveled quickly, now this way, now that, as if he were scanning the room for danger. “Exalted Fleetlord, kinsmale of the Emperor, as you know, we draw very near the Tosev system,” he said, his voice hardly louder than a whisper.
“I had better know that,” Atvar said with heavy sarcasm.
“Y-yes, Exalted Fleetlord.” The junior officer, almost on the point’ of bolting, visibly gathered himself before continuing: “Exalted Fleetlord, I am Subleader Erewlo, in the communications section. For the past few ship’s days, I have detected unusual radio transmissions coming from that system. These appear to be artificial in nature, and, and”—now he had to force himself to go on and face Atvar’s certain wrath—“from tiny doppler shifts in the signal frequency, appear to be emanating from Tosev 3.”
In fact, the fleetlord was too startled to be furious. “That is ridiculous,” he said. “How dare you presume to tell me that the animal-riding savages our probes photographed have moved in the historic swivel of an eye turret up to electronics when we required tens of millennia for the same advance?”
“Exalted Fleetlord, I presume nothing,” Erewlo quavered. “I me
rely report to you anomalous data which may be of import to our mission and therefore to the Race.”
“Get out,” Atvar said, his voice flat and deadly dangerous. Erewlo fled.
The fleetlord glared after him. The report was ridiculous, on the face of it. The Race changed but slowly, in tiny, sensible increments. Though both the Rabotevs and the Hallessi were conquered before they developed radio, they had had comparably long, comparably leisurely developments. Surely that was the norm among intelligent races.
Atvar spoke to his computer. The data the subleader had mentioned came up on his screen. He studied them, asked the machine for their implications. The implications were as Erewlo had said: with a probability that approached one, those were artificial radio signals coming from Tosev 3.
The fleetlord snarled a command the computer was not anatomically equipped to obey. If the natives of Tosev 3 had somehow stumbled across radio, what else did they know?
Just as the hologram of Tosev 3 had looked like a world floating in space, so the world itself, seen through an armorglass window, resembled nothing so much as a holographic image. But to get round to its other side now, Atvar would have to wait for the 127th Emperor Hetto to finish half an orbit.
The fleetlord glared down at the planet below. He had been glaring at it ever since the fleet arrived, one of his own years before. No one in all the vast history of the Race had ever been handed such a poisonous dilemma. The assembled shiplords stood waiting for Atvar to give them their orders. His the responsibility, his the rewards—and the risks.
“The natives of Tosev 3 are more technologically advanced than we believed they would be when we undertook this expedition,” he said, seeing if gross understatement would pry a reaction from them.
As one, they dipped their heads slightly in assent. Atvar tightened his jaws—would that he might bite down on his officers’ necks. They were going to give him no help at all. His the responsibility. He could not even ask the Emperor for instructions. A message Home would take twenty-four Home years to arrive, the reply another twenty-four. The invasion force could go back into cold sleep and wait—but who could say what the Tosevites would have invented by then?
Atvar said, “The Tosevites appear at the moment to be fighting several wars among themselves. History tells us their disunity will work to our advantage.” Ancient history, he thought; the Empire had had a single rule so long that no one, had any practice playing on the politics of disunion. But the manuals said such a thing was possible, and the manuals generally knew what they were talking about.
Turtledove: World War Page 1
