"Perhaps it was also justice, or at least inevitable. I would like to believe that. I try to believe that. But it was more than justice. Our Ophiuchi allies knew that even before we did it. They refused to participate in the bombardments, and for that refusal some of us called them `moral cowards'. until the smoke cleared, and we knew it too.
"And so the same Assembly which authorized Directive Eighteen drafted the Anti-Genocide Prohibition of 2249. Not because it knew it had murdered an entire species when it need not have, but because it was afraid it had. Because it had acted in haste and hatred, and it could never know whether or not it might have acted differently. The Prohibition doesn't forbid genocidal attacks, ladies and gentlemen. It simply stipulates that any such future act must be authorized by a two-thirds majority of this Assembly. In a very real sense, the blood debt for our own actions is that the Legislative Assembly must forever more assume - specifically, unequivocally, and inescapably - the responsibility for acting in the same way yet again.
"I had hoped," he said very quietly, "to be dead before a second such decision faced this Assembly. Most of my
We know wfiat tnose wno caff for vengeance feef ancf think, for we have felt and thought those same things.
"But Thebans, ladies and gentlemen, are not Rigelians. They now hold but a single habitable system. We are not speaking of billions of casualties from assaults on planet after planet. And whether they are mad or not, whether their madness would have found a vehicle without the interference of Alois Saint-Just and his fellow survivors or not, the'religion' which drives them did come from humanity. Perhaps they are mad, but have humans not shown sufficient religious `madness' of their own? How many millions have we killed for `God' in our time? Have we learned from our own bloody past? And if we have, may not the `mad' Theban race also be capable of learning with time?
`I don't know. But remember this, ladies and gentlemen - on New New Hebrides their Inquisition did not, to the best of our knowledge, kill a single child. Certainly children died in the invasion bombardments, and certainly children died on New Boston, but even when entire New New Hebridan villages were exterminated, the children were first removed. We may call this'stealing children' if we will. We may call preserving children who know their parents have been slaughtered cruelty, or argue that they did it only to `brainwash' them. But they spared their lives. and Rigelians would not have."
He paused yet again, then shook his head slowly.
"Ladies ana gentlemen, I can't tell you we can safely spare the Theban race. I can't tell you that, because until we reach Thebes, we simply cannot know. But that, ladies and gentlemen, is the purpose of the Prohibition of 2249 - to force us to wait, to compel us to discover the truth before we act. And so, with all due respect to Mister Owens, I must ask you to withhold your decision. Wait, ladies and gentlemen. Wait until Admiral Antonov secures control of the Theban System. Wait until we are not acting out of vengeance and
`Tarn an ofrfman," he repeated softly, "but most of you. are not. 1 `t'tvave paid my price vn gui't'tt and nightmares; you haven't. yet. Perhaps, as I, you will have no choice, but don't, I beg you, rush to pay it. Wait. Wait just a little longer - if not for the Thebans, then for yourselves."
He cut the circuit and bowed his head over his folded hands, and utter silence hovered in the vast chamber. Then an attention bell chimed.
"The Chair," Chantal Duval said softly, "recognizes the Honorable Assemblyman for Fisk."
Yevgeny Owens stood. Anger still burned in his face and determination still stiffened his spine, but there were shadows of ghosts in his eyes, and his voice was very quiet when he spoke.
"Madam Chairman, I withdraw my motion pending the outcome of Admiral Antonov's attack on Thebes."
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN At All Costs
Ivan Antonov walked through the outer reaches of the Thebes System with light-second strides, and occasional asteroids whirled past nim like insects. Not many - the Thebans had had generations to clear away a horizontal segment of the belt, as if it had been sliced across by a war-god's sword, and Antonov walked on a "floor" of artificially-arranged space rubble, while over his head there streamed a like "ceiling." Both held asteroids in a far higher density than anything in nature, but they were principally defined by the regularly spaced giant planetoids that had been forged into fortresses of unthinkable strength. Considerations of weapons' ranges and fields of fire had created that pattern, and the precision of its geometry was almost beautiful, like a decorative tracery worked in the dull silver of dim, reflected sunlight that would have been lovely. save for the mass death it held.
He turned his two-hundred-thousand-kilometer body on its heel and started back toward the warp point, deep in thought. He reached it in a few steps, and the universe wavered, then dissolved, returning nim to the human scale of things, facing the small groujp of people standing against the outer wall of Gosainthan'smain nolo tank.
Amazing how good these computer-enhanced simulations have gotten. Of course, this one was Winnie's pride and joy, painstakingly constructed with Lantu's help. He sometimes worried about the day when simulacra this good became commercially available - the sensation could become addictive.
He shook off the thought and addressed his staff. "I have reviewed all aspects of our operational plan and can find no fault with it - except, of course, that it requires a force level that we don't have entirely in place as yet. Still, the build-up is On schedule, and that will soon change."
"True, Admiral." Lantu crossed his arms behind him as he studied the holo display Antonov had just left and gave the softly buzzing hum of a Theban sigh. "Yet I remain somewhat concerned over the one completely uncertain variable. I wish I knew what the Ministry of Production's done about strikefighter development in light of Redwing. I suspect recent events have lent the project rather more urgency than my own earlier recommendations."
He paused, and his yellow eyes met Antonov's with an almost-twinkle, half-apologetic and half-rueful. The human admiral looked back impassively, but there might have been the ghost of an answering twinkle, the commiseration of one professional with a fellow hamstrung by inept, short-sighted superiors. Lantu turned back to the holo with a tiny shrug.
"Of course," he continued wryly, "I haven't exactly been privy to the Synod's decisions since Redwing, so I can only offer the truism that knowing a thing can be done is often half the battle in matters of R and D."
Winnifred Trevayne gave the somewhat annoying sniff that, in her, accompanied absolute certitude about her own conclusions. "I don't entirely share First Admiral Lantu's worries, sir. Permit me to reiterate my earlier line of reasoning.
"I don't think there can be any doubt that the Thebans have become well aware of the disadvantages imposed by their lack of fighters, but Lorelei's defenders obviously anticipated a desperate defensive action, as proved by their crustal defense and clearly pre-plannea ramming attacks. This was natural, given Lorelei's crucial nature and the fact that the best they can possibly hope for against the Federation's mobilized industrial potential is a defensive war. Anyone prepared to expend starships in Kamikaze attacks would certainly have committed fighters to the defense of Lorelei if they'd had them." She glanced at Berenson, who nodded; the intelligence officer had stated simple military sanity.
"We can therefore conclude,' she resumed, all didacticism, "that three months ago, when we took Lorelei, the Thebans did not possess fighters - not, at least, in useful numbers. Given this fact, they cannot possibly have built enough of them, or produced sufficient pilots and launch platforms, to make a difference when our attack goes in next month."
She stopped and looked around triumphantly, as if challenging anyone to find a flaw in her argument.
"Your logic is impeccable, Commander," Lantu admitted, "But permit me to remind you of the great limitation of logic: your conclusion can be no better than your premises. And one of your premises disturbs me: the assumption that the Church does, indeed, consider itself on the defensive. or, at least, that it did at the time of the Battle of Lorelei."
They all stared at him, speechlessly wondering how the Synod could not so regard itself in the face of its disastrous strategic position. All but Antonov, who looked troubled.