And then a voice that Hunt recognized as deep, Ganymean guttural articulating a mixture of Jevlenese and broken Lambian came through above the hubbub from the console where he had talked briefly with Garuth. "No. Not Prince or Lambian. Victor Hunt, talk with." ZORAC was evidently unavailable. Freskel-Gar moved across, followed by his aides. The voice came again from behind the group of figures. "Victor Hunt, only. Talk with Earth human. Was there before." Freskel-Gar looked back and nodded to the officer to bring Hunt over. As the company parted to let Hunt in, Hunt saw that a screen was connected into the circuit this time, showing Garuth. Freskel-Gar stopped him with a gesture as he was about to move through.
"What did that Giant mean, 'Earth human'?" he muttered. "How can you be from Earth?"
"More to this than you could dream," Hunt replied. "Best for you to end now. Believe." It was pure bravado. Hunt had run out of everything else. Freskel-Gar interrogated him silently with a long, penetrating look, and then motioned for him to continue.
"Garuth," Hunt said, facing the screen.
"Vic. We win, as you guess. Watch how. You see now." Garuth's features were replaced by a view of the Shapieron riding in space, surrounded by Broghuilio's five craft. Garuth's comments continued as a voiceover. "See from lander, where we are. ZORAC expands bubble." The scene became chaotic as ships began vanishing, multiplying, shifting from place to place. Freskel-Gar took a pace forward to stand beside Hunt, peering in bemusement.
"I don't understand. What's happening?" he demanded. Even though it had been he who put the idea to Garuth, Hunt was too astounded himself at seeing it actually happening to be capable of saying anything.
Then the Shapieron was on its own; a voice shouted something in Ganymean; and nothing further changed… except that after a few seconds it became evident that the image had stopped juddering and was stable again. "Back in ship now," Garuth's voice informed. "Broghuilio, Jevlenese, all gone. For good. But Perasmon plane…" Garuth made hand motions in the air as he sought for words.
Freskel-Gar was looking pale and tight-faced. He seemed to have gotten the message. "Translator computer is down," Hunt told him. "Bring back other Giant here. Easier talk, yes?" Too numbed to argue, Freskel-Gar just nodded to the officer, who hurried away. Hunt made the best of his opportunity to pile things on.
"It's over, Highness. You saw. Five ships, many years ahead of all that Minerva has. But all gone." He snapped a finger and thumb in the air. "Like so. Was nothing. You can't win against Giants. Wylott knows. Perasmon lives. Harzin lives. So now you have all Minerva to fight, too. Not possible. Smart thing is end now. Best answer. I tried to tell before. Now obvious."
Frenua Showm was brought in. By means of signs and bits of Jevlenese, Hunt conveyed the situation. Showm gasped at the news, took a few seconds to absorb it and adjust, and then, radiating exhilaration, turned to Garuth on the screen. From bits of the exchange between the two Ganymeans, Hunt followed Garuth saying that ZORAC had been trying… something to do with the Cerians… but Garuth didn't know because ZORAC was… it sounded like "finished." Hunt broke in to tell Showm that the flight had been diverted and two leaders were fine. The remark about ZORAC was alarming, but he had no time to dwell on it. Showm passed the news to Garuth, and it was his turn to be incredulous. Some indecipherable Ganymean exclamations and expressions followed, and the two aliens began emitting snorting noises accompanied by peculiar shaking movements. Only Hunt out of all those in the room had seen a Ganymean laugh before. But there could be no mistaking it.
Neither Freskel-Gar nor any of his staff were making any attempt to interrupt now. The realization of the inevitable seemed to permeate the room, as voices died and one by one the figures all around ceased tasks they now realized were futile.
The final report came from a station on the far side of the central map table. Infantry and armor were taking up positions around the Agracon and had sealed off all access. The commander of the Prince's Own defending units inside was requesting orders. A column was also heading toward Dorjon. Total silence fell. All eyes were fixed on Freskel-Gar. He looked from Hunt, to Showm, to Garuth watching from the screen, and over the expressionless faces surrounding him. As Hunt had said, it was over.
"Tell him to stand down," Freskel-Gar said.
Outside in the anteroom, where she had been told to remain in case she was needed again, Laisha was still recovering from the shock. A few minutes before, the colonel who had taken the light-skinned man inside had hurried back out, disappeared, and then come back through with somebody he had evidently been sent to fetch. Or would some "being" have been more correct? Laisha's mind was still in a turmoil. Obviously something extraordinary was going on. Her biggest regret was that Kles couldn't have been here to see it too. The being that had accompanied the colonel back, followed by two armed Lambian guards, was darker in hue than any Minervan, with an elongated head, dressed in a yellow tunic with strange fastenings and accessories, and standing over seven feet tall. But there shouldn't have been one any closer than millions of years in the past, or light-years away-if they still existed at all. Laisha had seen a real, live, Giant!
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Kles was working through the week's requisition lists but his mind was not really on the job, when the phone rang on Corporal Loyb's desk. The rest of the unit were drawing kit for a forced route march. Typically, Loyb had gotten himself excepted for office duty.
"Yes, sure, I'll tell him." Loyb replaced the phone and looked up. "Lieutenant Boros to report to the OC's office," he said. "At once."
"Oh… sure. I'm on my way." What had he started now? Kles nodded, stood up, buttoned his jacket, and pulled on his hat as he turned toward the door.
"Looks like they've got it in for you today," Loyb called after him.
Kles tried rehearsing explanations in his head as he headed toward the Admin block. He hadn't realized it was a security violation… No, that wouldn't wash. If he didn't know that, he qualified for being busted back to private. They'd done it to test the security measures, but he hadn't had a chance to report it… So why hadn't he reported it when he delivered the message from Wus Wosi at NEBA? He didn't have an answer. He'd just have to resign himself to taking whatever came of it, he told himself.
The orderly sergeant rose, beckoned, and opened the OC's door as soon as Kles entered. Kles went on through. The unit commander was already there. It looked serious. Kles removed his hat and saluted. "Lieutenant Boros reporting as ordered, Sir."
"At ease, Lieutenant," the OC said.
Surprised, Kles relaxed. Then he saw that the OC's expression was not critical; in fact, it seemed more a mixture of curiosity and disbelief. He shifted his eyes to find the unit commander staring at him wonderingly.
"Well," the OC said.
Kles waited. Then, "Sir…?"
"You don't know?"
"Know what, sir?"
"Haven't you heard the radio anytime in the last hour?"
"No, sir. I've been on duty in the stores."
"Oh, I see. The President's plane was diverted. There was a Lambian plot to overthrow King Perasmon, but it has been stopped. My first assessment would be that a course that would almost certainly have led to full-scale war has been averted."