“It is difficult for us to speak together,” Hawthorne said slowly. “On my side, I’ve seen you murder billions. On your side, well, my generalship has foiled you repeatedly. My psychologists tell me this will have caused you to hate me.”
Cassius realized abruptly that Hawthorne wasn’t cracking up. The preman-genius had iron in him. Maybe it was time to maneuver the preman in a new manner. Yes, he would use the cyborg attack to lure the last SU spaceships into killing range. Hadn’t Hawthorne already told him the Mars-based fleet was accelerating toward a near-intercept course? That would open Mars to attack. It might be time to send a Doom Star there and conquer it. Yes, yes, he would destroy the asteroids and the SU warships at one blow.
“For a…Homo sapien,” said Cassius, “you are strangely gifted in the strategic art.”
Several Highborn on the bridge glanced at him sharply. Tall Scipio nodded, however, with his eyes half-lidded. In that instant, Cassius mentally marked Scipio for highest command.
“I am amazed you would admit such a thing,” Hawthorne said.
Cassius shook his head. “We Highborn view reality as it is. It is one of our powers, one of our genetic gifts. Another is the ability to make swift decisions.”
“You have changed your mind and have now decided to work together?”
“You are premature,” said Cassius. “I have listened to your proposal. I have seen the evidence of this asteroid strike. Now I will ponder the implications.”
“Time has become our enemy,” said Hawthorne.
Cassius smiled indulgently. “Time is an element, malleable to a strong will. I will asses the information, factoring in time.”
“I’ll be waiting for your reply,” said Hawthorne. “Because I already know that you will be forced to work with me.”
“Have a care,” said Cassius.
“Your brilliant strategies these past years prove to me that logic governs your actions. Logically, you have no recourse other than to work together with us to save the planet.”
“We shall see,” said Cassius, impressed by the preman’s calm assurance. “For now, Grand Admiral Cassius out.”
The holoimage of Hawthorne nodded.
Cassius pressed a switch, and the image faded. Around him, the other Highborn waited in tense expectation.
Cassius took a calming breath. The preman—so that was Supreme Commander Hawthorne. He would have to replay the interview, discovering weakness that Hawthorne would have been unable to hide from a trained eye.
“Hail the Genghis Khan,” said Cassius. “I wish to hold a conference with Admiral Gaius.”
Scipio moved quickly, following Cassius’s orders.
-38-
Twenty-seven hours brought an abrupt change to Grand Admiral Cassius’s thinking. The change had occurred because of the data pouring in from the giant interferometer near the Sun. The vast sensor array was one of several secret Highborn weapons. The collapsium coating around the Julius Caesar was another. There was a third, but it was presently unfinished. When completed, it should give the Highborn the decided technological edge in the coming clinch with the cyborgs of Neptune.
Situated between the Sun and Mercury’s orbital path, the giant sensor array of many kilometers turned with ponderous slowness as each component shifted and realigned with the new heading. Then it focused on the asteroid-cluster. Despite the distance, its focusing capability dwarfed anything else turned on the Saturn-launched strike. The Highborn technicians and their premen servitors made critical adjustments. The fuzzy image became clear, and outlines became visible.
Soon, premen servitors counted laser-turret bunkers on individual asteroids. They highlighted massive, crater-sized exhaust ports. These matched known specs from Carme.
The giant sensor array tracked with minute calibrations. Debris fields were counted. Spectrum analysis gave greater precision to the composition of the visible asteroids. The tonnage estimates grew.
Harsh orders emanated from the Sensor-Commander. He wanted more information, complete data on each projectile.
The nature of the cluster, however, foiled him. Too many asteroids blocked those behind them in relation to the giant scanning device.
The Sensor-Commander aligned the laser lightguide system himself with a relay station between Venus and Earth. Then he pressed the transmit button, sending a surge of raw data to Grand Admiral Cassius.
-39-
Twenty-seven and-a-half hours after Cassius’s conversation with Hawthorne found him at his favorite viewing port.
It was on the Julius Caesar. Ballistic glass protected him from the vacuum of space. The port was twice his height and four times as wide. The Sun blazed outside, auto-shading within the glass protecting Cassius from the radiation. A circular object floated nearby that was subjectively larger than the Sun. It was the Genghis Khan. Below them, but presently out-of-sight, was the Earth. A smaller object half the size of the Moon as seen from Earth floated closer in. It was a farm habitat, slowly rotating as it created centrifugal-gravity.
A portable holoimaging dome sat in the middle of the recreation area. Technicians had set it up an hour ago, clearing away equipment. Heavy bags dangled from the ceiling in one area. In others, were exercise machines, while near the door were mats for wrestling, kickboxing and combat fighting.
Cassius held a controller-unit for the holoimaging dome. He also wore a virtual reality (VR) monocle in his left eye as he studied the data gleaned by the giant interferometer near the Sun. The magnitude of the asteroid-strike awed him.
Some of the asteroids were over thirty kilometers in diameter. Two debris fields were over fifty kilometers wide. The engineering feat of moving asteroid-sized moons out of their orbit around Saturn, bringing them near others like themselves and then whipping them around Saturn as they built up velocity—it was staggering. If this juggernaut of mass hit the Earth…everything living would die, even the cockroaches. Only microbes and viruses would survive, and even that was questionable. The kinetic energy of the strike would heat the Earth to intolerable levels.
Cassius looked up as motion caught his eye.
Tall Scipio entered the recreation area. He wore an immaculate brown uniform, with a First Class Rifle-Badge clipped to the front.
“Come in here,” said Cassius.
Scipio hesitated.
“Is something wrong?” asked Cassius.
“You greatly honor me, Your Excellency. I do not know why, and that troubles me.”
“I have my own reasons for bestowing this honor, which should be good enough for you. Essentially, you are here to render opinions and tell me when you think one of my ideas is foolish.”
“There are others higher-ranked than me who can do this.”
“An obvious truth,” said Cassius. “Do not waste my time with it.”
Scipio clicked his heels together, and he saluted sharply. “If I am here to render opinions, especially ones you do not want to hear, it is unwise of you to reprimand my first statement.”
“Excellent,” said Cassius. “I knew I selected you for a reason. Come. Pick up a controller-unit.”
Scipio’s hesitation lasted a moment longer. Then he strode to the holoimaging dome and picked up one of two other controllers.
“Who else is joining us?” asked Scipio.
“I am,” said Admiral Gaius, striding though another door.
He was a classic Highborn, nine-feet tall, broad-shouldered and with a wide face. He moved with arrogant confidence, and was Cassius’s closest advisor. He had captained the Napoleon Bonaparte in the Third Battle for Mars. Since that Doom Star was presently at the Sun-Works Factory under repair, he ran the Genghis Khan. Gaius wore a white uniform, with a Red Galaxy Medal pinned to his chest and an Ultimate Star with its blue ribbon. The bill of his cap was low over his eyes. He had prominent knuckles, with scar tissue over each. Rumors had it that in their teenage years he had given Cassius his single defeat in a fistfight.