"That's something right there," Joshua replied, "the fact that they haven't gone public. It means they want to keep this whole shadow war a secret as well. Look at it the other way. If we were innocent and kept nailing infiltration teams, don't you think we'd be screaming our heads off? So what do we do, Skip?"
"You keep on it. I want three more teams sent out immediately and a step-up in searching for their recon units."
"I can tell you right now it'll mean more good kids getting killed. Trying to slip over is nothing short of a suicide order."
Skip nodded sadly. "It's what they signed on for," he finally said, as if trying to convince himself. "We're just going to have to play our cards very closely for right now. I can't give an increased readiness alert, that'd set the damn press off into a real howl. But I have passed the word privately to some key people to start juggling the books a bit, horde some of the training ammunition, speed up overhauls, cut back on leaves. What about more listening posts?"
"Got six more going on-line, but remember we're talking a cool hundred million apiece for all that listening gear."
"Spend it. Damn it all, we've got to get a better read on their signal traffic. I just wish we could sneak some units half a dozen jump points in, try and pick up stuff from closer to their home world."
Speedwell shook his head.
"And lose them like the others? The damn arrays are simply too big."
Skip sighed. That had been one of his pet projects, to get the R and D money needed so that listening posts, capable of grabbing translight burst signals, could be reduced in size. Right now the antenna arrays were the size of a battlewagon and the best units available could probe only a few dozen light-years in.
"What about this damn forward deployment of the fleet at McAuliffe?" Speedwell asked. "It gives us absolutely no reaction time."
Skip mumbled a bitter curse. "That order still stands. It's part of Plan Orange Five, forward deployment to protect the outer worlds while punitive operations go on in Facin. If we pull the fleet out of McAuliffe and drop them back to the inner worlds, More would have another arrow in his quiver. Even if I tried to give the order the president would immediately block it, because it'd throw the election for sure. More would take that ball and run with it right into control of the government."
"So when do you think they'll hit, Skip?"
"If I was the Cats, I'd wait to right after the election. If the Peace Party wins, they could really lean on us, get us slashed even further to the bone, then simply close in and mop up. Wait a couple of years with those jerks in control and, hell, it wouldn't even be a fight."
"Remember what I've said before, Skip. We've got to learn to think like Cats. The whole concept of an election is totally alien to them. The simple fact that we run the show that way is seen by them as weakness."
Skip looked back at the calendar on his desk.
"Right after the election, I'd make it."
Joshua sat in silence for a moment.
"Why not Confederation Day?" Joshua said slowly. "It'd be the logical time to really nail us. Half the crews will have the weekend off."
"Maybe, but I wonder if the Cats would be that crazy. Do that and it'd really get our blood up. It'd be an act sure to arouse our rage. That's the biggest holiday of the year outside of Christmas."
"Washington did it at the Battle of Trenton and turned the tide of the American Revolution. Sure, the British and Hessians screamed foul, but it brought victory. The Arab states did nearly the same thing in the Yom Kippur War of 1973, and the Mongols did it in their Chinese New Year strike of 2082."
Skip let the thought settle in. Suppose Joshua was right? But were the Cats that subtle?
"Could we cancel Confederation Day leaves, Skip?"
"I can tell you right now the president will balk. You're talking seven days before elections. Again, More would scream war scare to panic voters."
"For heaven's sake, at least try to keep readiness up on that day. All right?"
Skip sighed. Ever since he had seen the report on the loss of the latest infiltration team he found himself wondering if he had sent his closest friend out on a suicide mission. A gut feeling was starting to take hold that he would most likely never see him again.
"Joshua, I fear we might have to take the first blow on the chin."
"If so, let's just hope we still have a head left the day after."
Kilrah
As his son strode into the room he sensed a subtle but significant change in the young cub. Perhaps it was simply that he was indeed maturing, but there also seemed to be a wariness on his part.
"My blood warms at the sight of thee and I thank the Gods for your safe return," Vakka said as Jukaga came to stand before him.
Jukaga remained silent.
"Out with it then," Vakka said.
"With what?"
"If you are to learn to survive my son, learn to hide your feelings before both friend and foe. You are troubled by something, yet you hesitate to voice it."
"Harga said something about you."
"How is he?"
"Troubled by the prospect of war. It is clear he does not believe in it."
"And you think that it is traitorous not to fully submit to the will of the Emperor."
Jukaga lowered his head. "He spoke against the war and then finished by saying 'go and ask your father. You will find his response to be interesting. I heard your arguments before the Pledging of Knives in support of the war. You threw your dagger into the circle as well. But are you now against what is to come?"
"Sit down, Jukaga."
Jukaga seemed reluctant but finally settled down on the floor next to his father.
"What did you learn on your journey to Fawcett's World?"
"These humans and their allies, it is hard to judge."
Jukaga began. "When I stand close to them, I do not like them. They are weak. Their bare flesh looks repulsive, their scent is foul."
Vakka chuckled. "But what else?"
"Abram is, I'm not sure how to say it…" and his voice trailed off.
"A friend?"
Surprised, Jukaga shook his head. "I couldn't call him that. He is, after all, alien. But there was something there."
"Intelligence, wisdom, honor," Vakka said quietly, and Jukaga nodded.
"Then the time spent sending you there was well spent," Vakka announced. "You've learned something no one else seems to accept about our foes. The knowledge of it will come as a shock that will shake the Empire."
"Before I departed, Harga gave me translations of some of their books to read on my return journey."
"Did you read the human, Sun-Tzu?"
"Yes. Strange, many of his maxims of war are nearly the same as the writings of Xag. Yet there is much of their writings I find odd. The poets of their first global war are filled with disdain for war and seem like the ravings of old widows But so much of their effort has in one way or another been war, either real or symbolic." He paused for a moment. "And yet they seem so weak, barely worth our notice except as prey."
Vakka chuckled. "'Judge not thy enemy by the strength of his arm, but rather by the cunning of his brain'" so Xag once said. I think my old friend has opened a door for you and what you have seen on the other side troubles you deeply."
"You mean Harga?"
"No, Abram. I found, at times, when we sat in the darkness and he was downwind so that I could not detect his scent, that I felt as if I was talking with a clan elder."
Vakka looked away, "… and so I saw him first, and killed him in his place."
"What was that?"
"Oh, one of the ravings of old human widows, as you called it."
"Harga said they are to be killed."
"And you are concerned? I thought you hated them, that they were prey."
"Still, he might be useful," Jukaga said, as if searching for an excuse.
"Things might be arranged."