If a response had not been received by a certain time, the plan called for some selected uninhabited areas of Thurien’s surface to be devastated as a demonstration that the ultimatum was serious. That time had now arrived, and Broghuilio’s aides were waiting with a tense expectancy. "Report the current status of the fleet," he instructed curtly.
"No change," JEVEX replied. "Bombardment squadron standing by and awaiting order. Secondary beams unlocked and primed for area saturation. Coordinates programmed for targets as selected."
Broghuilio gazed around his circle of generals to savor the moment for a while longer, then opened his mouth to issue the command. At that instant JEVEX spoke again. "I have to interrupt, Excellency. A channel has just opened from Earth, top priority. Your response is requested at once."
The smirk vanished from Broghuilio’s face. "I have nothing to talk to Sverenssen about. He has his instructions. What does he want?"
"It isn’t Sverenssen, Excellency. It’s Verikoff."
Broghuilio’s expression changed to an angry frown. "Verikoff? What business does he have there at this time? He should be handling the situation in Russia. What does he mean by ignoring protocols in this fashion?"
JEVEX seemed to hesitate for a moment. "He. . . . says he has an ultimatum to deliver to you personally, Excellency."
Broghuilio looked as if he had suddenly been punched in the face. He stood absolutely motionless for a few seconds while an ominous tide of deep purple crept slowly upward behind his beard, starting at his collar and eventually finding its way to his scalp. The generals around him were exchanging shocked, uncomprehending looks. Broghuilio licked his lips, and his fists opened and closed by his sides. "Get him here," he growled. "And JEVEX, do not disconnect him until I say so."
"I regret that is impossible, Excellency," JEVEX replied. "Verikoff is not coupled neurally into the system. I have audio and visual contact only." A screen on one wall of the room came to life to show Verikoff standing in the center of Sverenssen’s communications room, evidently having thought better of committing himself to the recliner that was partly visible behind him. Something had happened to him since he had entered the room. He was staring out from the screen with his arms folded solidly across his chest, and he looked calm and assured.
"Behold, the textbook warlord." Verikoff allowed his lip to curl into a contemptuous sneer. "You should not have sent us to Earth, Broghuilio. It has been an honor and an education to meet real warriors. Believe my words-you would be even more of a fool than the fool you are to pit your rabble of amateurs against the Terrans. If you do, they will destroy you. That is my message."
Broghuilio’s eyes widened. The veins at the sides of his neck began pulsating. "You are the traitor!" he spat. "Now we see the vermin exposing himself at last. What is this talk of an ultimatum?"
"Traitor? No." Verikoff remained unperturbed. "Merely a question of calculating the winning odds, which after all is your own dictum. You have set us up well to assume control of Earth very soon, and we thank you for it, but unfortunately for you that puts us on the winning side. Which do you think we’d rather be-caretakers of an outpost of your empire, or rulers of our own? The answer should not be difficult."
"What do you mean by we? " Broghuilio demanded. "How many of you are behind this?"
"All of us, of course. We manipulate all of Earth’s major national governments and therefore have control over its strategic forces. And we have enjoyed the cooperation of the Thuriens for a very long time now. How else do you think they’ve been able to talk to the Terrans without your knowing anything about it? They know that you, not the Terrans, are the real threat to the Galaxy, and we have persuaded them to allow us a free hand to deal with it. So we command a fully armed planet, backed by Thurien technology. It’s all over, Broghuilio. All you have left to save now is your skin."
A short distance back from the open door through which Verikoff was speaking, Hunt turned an astounded face toward Lyn and leaned close to whisper in her ear. "I didn’t think he had it in him. The guy deserves an Oscar." Beside them, Sobroskin, looking as if he didn’t really believe it either, had lowered the automatic with which he had been covering Verikoff from the passageway.
Broghuilio was looking bewildered. "Strategic forces? What strategic forces? Earth doesn’t have any strategic forces."
Then JEVEX interrupted again. "We have an alarm condition in Sector Five. Something unidentified is attempting to penetrate the net. Two destroyers have been detached from station and sent to investigate."
"Don’t bother me with such things now," Broghuilio raged, waving his arms impatiently. "Delegate to Sector Control and report later." He looked back at Verikoff again. "Earth demilitarized years ago."
"Is that what you believe?" Verikoff leered openly. "You poor simpleton. You don’t really imagine we’d allow Earth to disarm when we knew this day was coming, do you? That story was purely for your consumption. Ironically you almost changed it back into the truth. It has given the Thuriens a lot of amusement."
Broghuilio still couldn’t make any sense out of it. "Earth has disarmed," he insisted. "Our surveillance . . . JEVEX has shown us-"
"JEVEX!" Verikoff scoffed. "VISAR has been pumping fairy tales into JEVEX for years." His expression became hard and threatening. "Listen to me, Broghuilio, for I am in no mood to repeat myself. This demonstration at Thurien has taken things too far. The Ganymeans have seen now what you represent, and they are not of a mind to hold us back by scruples. So this is our ultimatum to you: either you withdraw from Thurien now, and agree to place your entire military command under our jurisdiction unconditionally, or the Thuriens will transfer through to Jevlen a combined Terran force that will blow you to stardust-you, your whole planet, and that laughable aggregation of scrap that you call a computer network."
Somewhere deep inside JEVEX something hiccuped. A million tasks that had been running inside the system froze in the confusion as directives coming down from the highest operating levels of the nucleus redefined the whole structure of priority assignments to force an emergency analysis of the new data. And in the middle of it all, the routines that had been scanning for inquisitive probes through h-space faltered. It was only for a few seconds, but . . .
On Thurien, VISAR spoke suddenly to end a long vigil that had been dragging silently by for hours. "Something’s happened! I’ve got a link to ZORAC!" Even as Caldwell was jumping to his feet, and Heller and Danchekker were looking up with startled faces on the other side of the room, streams of binary were pouring across the gulf to the Shapieron , light-years away, and VISAR had begun analyzing the patterns assembled by ZORAC.
"What’s the situation?" Calazar asked tensely. "Is the ship all right? How far into JEVEX have they penetrated?"
"They’ve got problems," VISAR said after a short delay. "Give me a few more seconds. This is going to need some fast footwork."
On the Command Deck of the Shapieron , a familiar voice that had not been heard for several days spoke suddenly to break the silence that had fallen with despair. "Say, you’re in a bit of a mess here. Sit tight. I’ll handle this."