He stumped across the sea of crimson carpet, leaning on his cane. It was less of an affectation than it once had been. He'd been in his fifties before the antigerone treatments became available, and his body was finally beginning to fail. But his eyes remained as sharp as his brain, and they flitted busily about as he advanced upon his waiting hosts.
Sakanami Hideoshi sat behind the big desk, expressionless as a kabuki mask. Vice President Ramon Montoya and Hamid O'Rourke sat in armchairs by the coffee table, Pericles Waldeck stood gazing out the windows with ostentatious unconcern, and Erika Van Smitt, leader of the Liberal Democrats, sat across the coffee table from Montoya.
Quite a gathering, Anderson mused, choosing a chair beside Van Smitt. Add himself, and the people in this room represented the Administration and over ninety percent of the Assembly.
"Thank you for coming, Howard," Sakanami said, and Waldeck turned from the window with a smile. Anderson met it stonily, and it faded. The silence stretched out endlessly until Sakanami finally cleared his throat.
"I've asked you here because I need your advice, Howard."
"That's a novel admission," Anderson said, and the president winced.
"Please, Howard. I realize how you must feel, but-"
"I doubt very much," Anderson's voice was cold and precise, "that you have the least idea how I feel, Mister President." If you did, you'd've had me searched for weapons, you son-of-a-bitch.
"I-" Sakanami paused. "I suppose I deserved that, but I truly do need your help."
"In what way?"
"I need your experience. You've led the Federation through three wars, both as an admiral and as president. You understand what the Fleet needs to fight with and what it takes to produce it. I'd like to create a special cabinet post-Minister for War Production-and ask you to assume it."
"And what would the duties of this post be?"
"You'd be my direct representative, charged with rationalizing demand and output. If you took the post, I'd ask you to go out to Galloway's World. Admiral Antonov will be taking command in the Lorelei Sector, and I want you to help him coordinate the operations of the Fleet yard with its civilian counterparts before he ships out. Are you interested?"
"Would I retain the right to speak my mind, publicly as well as privately?" Anderson was surprised and-he admitted it-excited by the offer.
Sakanami glanced at Waldeck, then nodded firmly. "I couldn't expect the full benefit of your experience if you didn't."
"Then I accept, Mister President," Anderson said. His voice was still cold, but he was beginning to wonder if he'd misjudged Sakanami.
"Good. Good! And there's another thing I need from you, Howard. You're the only man on Old Terra who's ever personally met Khan Liharnow, and a message from you will carry more weight than one from me."
"A message to Liharnow?" Anderson's eyes narrowed once more. They'd shown him the carrot, now they were about to tell him how high he had to jump to get it. "What message?"
"We haven't released the report, but ONI has finished its analysis of Admiral Li's drones," O'Rourke answered for Sakanami. The defense minister faltered as Anderson turned his basilisk gaze on him, then continued.
"You must have heard rumors the Thebans aren't human after all. Well, we have positive confirmation they aren't. The battle-cruiser Scimitar got away, but not before she was boarded. The Thebans have some sort of personnel capsule-something like a short-ranged capital missile-that lets them literally shoot small boarding parties at a ship. They have to knock the shields down first, but they carry drive field penetrators like fighters and small craft. ONI puts their maximum range at about eight light-seconds.
"Anyway, Scimitar's Marines took out her boarders, and the bodies are definitely non-human." He paused, as if that explained everything, and Anderson frowned. Obviously they didn't realize he'd already seen the original reports, but what were they driving at?
"I fail to see," he said into the expectant silence, "what that has to do with my acquaintance with Liharnow."
"Surely it's obvious that this changes everything, Howard." Pericles Waldeck's patronizing manner was one of several reasons Anderson detested him.
"How?" he asked coldly.
"Mister Anderson"-O'Rourke seemed stunned by his obtuseness-"we lost eighty percent of Admiral Li's force-over ninety percent of its tonnage, since none of the battle-line got away. That's more than a quarter of Battle Fleet!"
"I'm familiar with the figures, Mister O'Rourke."
"Well, don't you see, we agreed to intervene and handle the situation alone because we thought we were dealing with humans! We're not-and we don't have the least idea how powerful these Thebans really are. They said they had only one system, but they could have dozens. We need to invoke the Alliance and get the Orions in here to help!"
Anderson stared at him.
"We can't," he said sharply. "It's absolutely out of the question."
"Howard," Sakanami stepped into the breach, "I don't think we have any choice. It'll take us months to redeploy the Fleet, and if we do it'll leave the frontiers almost naked. We need the Orions."
"Don't you understand the Orion honor code?" Anderson demanded. "A khimhok stands alone, Mister President. If you ask Liharnow for help now, you're rejecting the role you asked him to let you assume! The best we can hope for is that he won't hold us responsible if the Thebans hit him again."
"But we accepted the role because we thought the Thebans were humans, and they aren't," Waldeck explained with elaborate patience.
"Which doesn't matter a good goddamn!" Anderson shot back. "Jesus, haven't you even talked to your xenologists?! To an Orion, an obligation is an obligation. If he makes a mistake, takes on a responsibility because of a misunderstanding, that's his problem; he'll handle it anyway or die trying."
"I think you're overreacting," Sakanami said.
"Like hell I am! Damn it, Liharnow put his own honor on the line to let you handle the Thebans! You go to him with an idea like this, and you'll have the fucking Orion Navy on your back, too."
"I find your language offensive, Howard," Waldeck said coldly.
"Well, fuck you and the horse you rode in on!" Anderson retorted. "I'll help clean up your goddamn mess, Wonder Boy, but I'll be damned if I help you make it any worse!"
"Howard-" Erika Van Smitt started pacifically.
"You stay out of this, Erika! All you did was support the Administration-don't screw up now and get roped into this insanity!"
"I've had just about enough of you, Anderson," Waldeck grated. "You and your holier than thou criticism! It's always the civilians, right? Always our fault! Well, Mister Anderson, this time your precious Fleet's in it up to its gold-braided ass!"
Anderson met the younger man's eyes contemptuously. Their enmity cut far deeper than mere politics-it was personal and implacably bitter. Waldeck would never forget that CNO Anderson had personally seen to it that Admiral Solon Waldeck was court-martialed and shot after ISW-1 for allowing the Orions to capture a copy of the Federation's entire astrogation data base . . . and attempting to conceal the fact. Other branches of the Waldeck clan had provided many a flag officer as distinguished as any family could wish, but Solon had been Pericles Waldeck's grandfather.
Now Waldeck's florid face darkened as the famous Waldeck temper roused. Sakanami looked alarmed and reached out a hand, but Waldeck ignored it.
"You're riding pretty high right now, aren't you, Mister Minister for War Production? All fired up to 'help' us after you warned us and we went right ahead and put our foot in it, right?"