The silence built once again. What would the Hudathan choose? What would any of them choose?
Energy weapons? Slug throwers? Dart guns? Each had merit.
DomaSa smiled but very few of them recognized the expression as such. Most saw what looked like a predatory grin. “Swords.”
There were gasps of surprise, the quick buzz of commentary, and a variety of stares. Horgo was taken aback. Though something of an expert with the sword, he had assumed that if the diplomat agreed to fight, it would be with something less personal. A weapon that would put some distance between the combatants and serve to even the odds. This was good news indeed The duel would be short. Pleased by his good fortune, the War Omo bowed for the second time and backed away. “The surface of Arballa—two days from now.” DomaSa nodded. ‘Two days from now.”
ChienChu sighed. The trap had been set and sprung.
Would the quarry escape? Only time would tell.
It was a small compartment, just off President Nankool’s living quarters, and frequently used for gatherings such as this one. Candlelight glinted from real silver, a Turr symphony could be heard in the background, and the meal was half over. President Marcott Nankool was a rather bland man who took too much pleasure in ceremonial meals, and looked a bit bloated.
The guests included Sergi ChienChu, Maylo ChienChu and Hiween DomaSa. The President gestured toward the Hudathan’s large and rather ornate bowl. “So, Ambassador, how are you doing? Ready for another serving?”
The Hudathan eyed his second bowl of cooked grain. It was hearty stuff—full of nuts and dried fruit. Not bad for shipboard cuisine. “Thank you, Mr. President, but no. This is more than sufficient.”
Nankool looked at Maylo. “And how ‘bout you my dear? Some more of the fish perhaps?”
Maylo flashed back to the illicit swim that she and Senator Samuel Ishimoto Six had shared in one of the onboard aquaculture tanks, and wondered where he was. Why did she care? And what about Booly?
The silence stretched uncomfortably long, and she hurried to fill it. “No, thank you.”
“Well,” Nankool continued, dabbing at his lips, “let’s get to it. So, Sergi, what’s on your mind?”
ChienChu had very little need of nourishment, and what he did require was delivered by other means. He toyed with his wineglass. The dinner was his doing ... so the question made sense. He looked from one face to the next. “I would like to submit a proposal, a proposal that many of our colleagues would consider to be insane, but, given our present circumstances, may represent the only real chance we have.”
Nankool finished one glass of wine and poured himself another. Light gleamed as he raised the glass.
“To Sergi ChienChu! Author of the outrageous! Please proceed.”
The most fleeting of smiles touched ChienChu’s plastiflesh lips. “You may feel differently in a moment. My proposal is this: Given the fact that the Sheen are hunting for the Thraki, and we lack the clout to force them to leave, the Confederacy is in need of allies. Allies with military clout.”
“Yes,” the President agreed. “But who? All the players have chosen sides. None remain.”
“Ah, but that’s where you are wrong,” the industrialist insisted. “One player remains, and he’s here, sitting at this table.”
Nankool frowned, looked to DomaSa, and back to ChienChu. “I’m sorry Sergi... I don’t understand.”
“It’s really quite simple,” ChienChu replied. “After the last war ended, in an effort to prevent still another, a blockade was established. Since that time Ambassador DomaSa and his people have been free to do whatever they pleased so long as they remained on the surface of the planet Hudatha.”
Maylo wondered what her uncle was driving at, looked at the Hudathan, and took note of his expression. Though no expert, the businesswoman had spent a considerable amount of time with the diplomat, and thought she detected a strange sort of intensity ... As if the alien thought he knew where ChienChu was headed . .. but was afraid to hope.
“I have no way to know,” the industrialist continued earnestly, “but it’s my guess that the Hudathan military has been anything but inactive during the last fifty years, and are at the very peak of readiness. All of which points to a reserve of warriors, fierce warriors, who have every reason to fight the Sheen and nothing to lose.”
Nankool went pale. His hands started to shake. “My apologies to the Ambassador—but have you taken leave of your senses? Have you forgotten the death of your own son? The deaths of more than two million Confederate soldiers? The deaths of a billion civilians? All at the hands of the Hudathans? I’m sorry, Sergi... but what you propose is out of the question. Even if the Hudathans agreed, even if they fought the Sheen to a standstill, they would turn on us in the end.”
Though not as responsive as his flesh and blood face had been, the highly malleable plastic did its best to reflect what the cyborg felt, and there was no mistaking the extent of his emotions. A hand slammed down onto the surface of the table, and wineglasses jumped in response. Maylo, who had never seen her uncle lose his temper in all the years she had known him, felt suddenly afraid.
“You think I haven’t considered those things? Damn your impertinence! Not a day passes that I don’t think of Leonid, of the fact that I sent him to Spindle, where the Hudathans killed him.
“But what of the billions for whom we are responsible? How many will the Sheen slaughter? Once dead, we have no means to bring them back. Should we defeat the Sheen, and go on to face the Hudathans, they have a chance. No offense to Ambassador DomaSa—but we defeated his race on two previous occasions. I believe we can do so again.”
Though confused by conflicting emotions Maylo came to her uncle’s assistance. “Sergi has a point. . . Perhaps the Hudathans could change, if they wanted to change, and integrate themselves into Confederate society. Still, even if they can’t, limits can be imposed.”
“Yes!” ChienChu added gratefully. “Limit the size of their navy! Troops mean nothing without the means to move them around.”
“Spoken like a true admiral,” Nankool said dryly. “I see what you mean ... but I still find the concept more than a little frightening.”
The President turned to DomaSa. So, Ambassador, what do you think? Would you and your people fight alongside the Confederacy in exchange for limited freedoms? And to what extent could your race be trusted? Realizing that you are a bit biased of course.”
DomaSa fought to control the unseemly feeling of joy that threatened to overwhelm the rest of his faculties. At last! Here was the opportunity he had dreamed of, . . An opening to exploit. But at what cost? The Thrakie hoped to use the entire Confederacy as a shield—and ChienChu wanted to employ his people as a spear. Oh, how he hungered for something clean and pure. The diplomat chose his words with care.
“The governor’s assumption is correct. Though not permitted to leave the surface of Hudatha, my people have been able to maintain a high state of military readiness. A fact that in no way violates the terms of our surrender and subsequent imprisonment.
“As for our willingness to fight the Sheen, well, anyone who has carried out even the most superficial analysis of our racial psychology knows that we have a strong, some would say overdeveloped sense of survival. Given the opportunity to neutralize a threat, we will always seek to do so.
“Such decisions lie beyond the scope of my authority, but, I believe the answer would be ‘yes.’ If we were allowed some additional freedoms—and the right to settle new worlds. Hudatha grows less stable with each passing year, and time grows short.”
“And then?” Nankool demanded. “If we defeat the Sheen? What could we expect then?”
The silence built as DomaSa considered his answer. He could lie, or try to, but doubted his ability to carry the deception off. Not with ChienChu present. No, the Hudathan decided, the truth was best. “I cannot honestly say that my people will ever be able to fully merge with the Confederacy. Given too much freedom, and the opportunity to build a fleet, our instincts would take over. If the Confederacy allows my race to fight, (I we are allowed some additional freedoms, it would pay to be vigilant. We are what we are.”