"It won't," said the colonel.
"But you will," answered Pock. "Until you can put a weapon in my hand that allows me to stop them from burning any planet in the system, I have no intention of following your insane advice and writing insane patriotic messages. Why antagonize them?"
"The only thing that will stop them from getting I antagonized is giving them water, which we won't do," the colonel answered.
"Do you think I don't know that?"
The imperial fleet was now close enough to entirely encircle the system-- and the rebels. In previous attempts at encirclement, of course, the rebels, being telepaths-- that was the point of the war, wasn't it-- were able to anticipate every move and broke such circles like child's play. But now they were nearly out of fuel-- they had no maneuvering room; they could not get to another system; they had to either get water from Harper system or surrender.
And in the meantime, the imperial fleet began making feints and false attacks and swift diving runs. The rebels had to react, had to move their ships, for the telepaths could clearly see that the fleet commander would instantly follow up any momentary advantage. And when the rebels stopped responding, he would know that they were out of fuel and would attack. Without fuel to maneuver the ship, telepathy was no longer an advantage.
We're doomed, they told Homer Worthing.
We knew that was a possibility from the start. And if we'd stayed with them, we would have been doomed anyway-- after all, didn't the enemy kill all their telepaths? They didn't trust us, with good reason, and now we're stuck.
Brilliant, somebody said. We know we're stuck. But we don't have to be.
And Homer Worthing felt his authority slipping away from him. What do you mean, we don't have to be? he asked.
I mean that this planet system isn't neutral. Our lack of supplies is the empire's most potent weapon against us. That makes the planets hostile adversaries. Attacking them is legitimate. Theyare no longer civilians.
Just try explaining that to all the innocent people you'd be killing.
Then let them explain to us why they're so eager to kill us? If we had a weapon that would only kill generals, we'd use it. But we don't. But we do have a weapon that will definitely kill the generals-- and everybody else. So let's be ready to use that.
Not while I lead this fleet.
All those in favor?
For the moment, the majority voted to keep Worthing as fleet commander. But only a majority, and not an overwhelming one.
And as time passed and they maneuvered more and more, all but four ships ran out of fuel.
Fifth Exchange
From: SWIP-e33
To: The planetside enemy
By refusing to supply us and by attacking a ship attempting to refuel and destroying it, you have removed yourselves from civilian immunity. Perhaps it will convince you that we are serious if we tell you that Homer Worthing is no longer captain of the fleet. The new captain is determined to burn you within four hours unless we have a positive response.
"That means," the colonel gloated, "that they're nearly out of fuel! We've got them where we want them!"
"That means," Governor Pock said, "that they're cornered and desperate and may very well do anything, including burning us to a cinder."
"Nonsense. That wouldn't help them and they know it. They've lost-- they'll simply have to admit it and surrender."
"They've lost, and we made them lose," the governor said. "What animal doesn't take one last swipe at the hunter, even though he's already dying?"
"You've shot down too many skeeters, Governor," said the colonel.
"We'll be destroyed. I don't want to get these planets involved."
"A bit too late, isn't it? What do you want to do, send them water?"
"I've been considering it."
"Well, stop considering it, Pock. I have authority to remove you from office and impose military law the moment you attempt to in any way aid the rebels." The presence of the fleet had stiffened his spine.
"I wish you'd told me before, colonel. I could have had you in charge of this whole mess from the start."
"I am also instructed to shoot you."
"In that case I'm grateful that I never tried anything. The people are getting a bit restless about this." And so am I. What's the fleet doing?
"Rebels are always popular. A focus of resentments. We can cope."
Pock was very tired. Things were obviously out of his control now. "I'm going to bed," he said.
"Fine," said the colonel, and as soon as the governor was gone he drafted a reply to the rebels.
Sixth Exchange
From: Authority
To: Traitors and Terrorists
We are not afraid to die for the glorious empire. When we are dead, you shall be dealt with. For making the threat alone, you will be executed in the most ignominious manner possible. Carry out the threat, and we assure you that every telepath in the empire will pay the price.
What, do they think the other telepaths have any kind of link with us?
They assume it, Worthing told the new captain of the fleet. And why not? They're afraid of people who can talk to each other so that no one else can hear. Don't you remember? It's not polite to whisper.
We don't have any fuel left.
I suggest we surrender.
We will burn Harper Moon.
I will burn you first, Worthing said.
Rage. The rage of eighteen other captains. We are together, they shouted in their minds. We are together against the enemy, not against each other. We must stick together.
Then a pause.
More reasoned thoughts. More careful thoughts.
The last message. It was obviously written by someone else. Probably the military. It looks as though there has been either a policy or a personnel change.
So the hell what? Whatever we do, we're dead.
So let's surrender and at least they'll make martyrs of us, Homer. suggested.
Laughter. What is this? We didn't sign on to be Jesus. We could have let them make us martyrs long ago.
And Homer Worthing knew they were right. Martyrdom did nothing, really. Who would they be dying for? Who would rally to their cause? They were already as strong as any rebellion would ever be. When they died, all the lights would go out, and the empire would be free to use telepaths as tools, then cast them away at will, with impunity.
And underlying all the mental conversation was the ever more powerful undertone of fear. Fear of death. Fear of failing. Fear that, in the end, they were helpless after all.
The imperial fleet tried another sortie. This time there was no resistance. The rebels were entirely out of fuel. The imperials immediately attacked. At the end of the battle, even hampered as they were, the rebels had lost only seven ships to the nine lost by the imperial fleet. But the imperial fleet could afford losses. And now there were only twelve telepaths left, and they were lost. On the next battle, or the next, they would die.
Seventh Exchange
From: SWIP-e33
To: Governor Pock
If you have any humanity in you at all, governor, let us refuel and leave. All we want to do is leave settled space. We threaten no one. We harm no one. And in exchange for this we're being murdered in your skies for lack of the one thing you can spare without any loss-- a few million liters of your ocean. You are destroying us by your unwillingness to let us land. You are murdering us.
From: Authority
To: The traitors
You are out of fuel. You will be destroyed in a matter of days. We regard it as a point of particular pride that we, a minor planetary system, will have been chiefly responsible for the empire's glorious victory. Your begging is undignified. Surrender, and you may yet be spared.
The second battle ended, and now only Homer Worthing and two other telepaths were alive.