“How do they explain the absence of radiational activity?”
“They say that the Solarians may have moved underground or that they may have developed a technological advance of some sort that obviates radiation leakage. They also say that the Solarians were not seen to leave and that they have absolutely nowhere to go to. Of course, they were not seen leaving because no one was watching.”
Mandamus said, “How do they argue that the Solarians have nowhere to go to? There are many empty worlds.”
“The argument is that the Solarians cannot live without their incredible crowds of robots and they can’t take those robots with them. If they came here, for instance, how, many robots do you suppose we could allot to them—if any?”
“And what is your argument against that?”
“I haven’t any. Still, whether they are gone or not, the situation is strange and puzzling and it is incredible that no one will move to investigate it. I’ve warned everyone, just as strenuously as I can, that inertia and apathy will be the end of us; that as soon as the Settler worlds become aware of the fact that Solaria was—or might be—empty, they would have no hesitation in investigating the matter. Those swarmers have a mindless curiosity that I wish we had some share in. They will, without thinking twice, risk their lives if some profit lures them on.”
“What profit in this case, Dr. Amadiro?”
“If the Solarians are gone, they have, perforce, left almost all their robots behind. They are—or were—particularly ingenious roboticists and the Settlers, for all their hatred of robots, will not hesitate to appropriate them and ship them to us for good Space credits. In fact, they have announced this.
“Two Settler ships have already landed on Solaria. We have sent a protest over this, but they will surely disregard the protest and, just as surely, we will do nothing further. Quite the contrary. Some of the Spacer worlds are sending out quiet queries as to the nature of the robots that might be salvaged and what their prices would be.”
“Perhaps just as well,” said Mandamus quietly.
“Just as well that we’re behaving exactly as the Settler propagandists say we will? That we act as though we are degenerating and turning into soft pulps of decadence?”
“Why repeat their buzz words, sir? The fact is that we are quiet and civilized and have not yet been touched where it hurts. If we were, we would fight back strongly enough and, I’m sure, smash them. We still far outstrip them technologically.”
“But the damage to ourselves will not be exactly pleasurable.”
“Which means that we must not be too ready to go to war. If Solaria is deserted and the Settlers wish to plunder it, perhaps we ought to let them. After all, I predict that we will be all set to make our move within months.”
A rather hungry and ferocious look came over Amadiro’s face. “Months?”
“I’m sure of it. So the first thing we must do is to avoid being provoked. We will ruin everything if we move toward a conflict there is no need to fight and undergo damage even if we win—that we don’t need to suffer. After all, in a little while, we are going to win totally, without fighting and without damage.—Poor Earth!”
“If you’re going to be sorry for them,” said Amadiro with spurious lightness, “perhaps you’ll do nothing to them.”
“On the contrary,” said Mandamus coolly. “It’s precisely because I fully intend to do something to them—and know that it will be done—that I am sorry for them. You will be Chairman!”
“And you will be the head of the Institute.”
“A small post in comparison to yours.”
“And after I die?” said Amadiro in half a snarl.
“I do not look that far ahead.”
“I am quite—” began Amadiro, but was interrupted by the steady buzz of the message unit. Without looking and quite automatically, Amadiro placed his hand at the EXIT slot. He looked at the thin strip of paper that emerged and a slow smile appeared on his lips.
“The two Settler ships that landed on Solaria—” he said.
“Yes, sir?” asked Mandamus, frowning.
“Destroyed! Both destroyed!”
“How?”
“In an explosive blaze of radiation, easily detected from space. You see what it means? The Solarians have not left after all and the weakest of our worlds can easily handle Settler ships. It is a bloody nose for the Settlers and not something they’ll forget.—Here, Mandamus, read for yourself.”
Mandamus pushed the paper aside. “But that doesn’t necessarily mean that the Solarians are still on the planet. They may merely have booby-trapped it somehow.”
“What is the difference? Personal attack or booby-trap, the ships were destroyed.”
“This time they were caught by surprise. What about next time, when they are prepared? And what if they consider the event a deliberate Spacer attack?”
“We will reply that the Solarians were merely defending themselves against a deliberate Settler invasion.”
“But, sir, are you suggesting a battle of words? What if the Settlers don’t bother talking, but consider the destruction of their ships an act of war and retaliate at once?”
“Why should they?”
“Because they are as insane as we can be once pride is hurt; more so, since they have a greater background of violence.”
“They will be beaten.”
“You yourself admit they will inflict unacceptable damage upon us, even if they are beaten.”
“What would you have me do? Aurora did not destroy those ships.”
“Persuade the Chairman to make it quite plain that Aurora had nothing to do with it, that none of the Spacer worlds had anything to do with it, that the blame for the action rests on Solaria alone.”
“And abandon Solaria? That would be a cowardly act.”
Mandamus blazed into excitement. “Dr. Amadiro, have you never heard of anything called a strategic retreat? Persuade the Spacer worlds to back off for only a little while on some plausible pretext. It is only a matter of some months till our plan on Earth comes to fruition. It may be hard for everyone else to back off and be apologetic to the Spacers, for they don’t know what is coming—but we do. In fact, you and I, with our special knowledge, can look upon this event as a gift from what used to be called the gods. Let the Settlers remain preoccupied with Solaria while their destruction is prepared—all unobserved by them—on Earth.—Or would you prefer us to be ruined on the very brink of final victory?”
Amadiro found himself flinching before the direct glare of the other’s deep-set eyes.
60
Amadiro had never had a worse time than during the period following the destruction of the Settler ships. The Chairman, fortunately, could be persuaded to follow a policy of what Amadiro termed “masterful yielding.” The phrase caught the Chairman’s imagination, even though it was an oxymoron. Besides, the Chairman was good at masterful yielding.
The rest of the Council was harder to handle. The exasperated Amadiro exhausted himself in picturing the horrors of war and the necessity of choosing the proper moment to strike—and not the improper one—if war there must be. He invented novel plausibilities for why the moment was not yet and used them in discussions with the leaders of the other Spacer Worlds. Aurora’s natural hegemony had to be exercised to the utmost to get them to yield.
But when Captain D.G. Baley arrived with his ship and his demand, Amadiro felt he could do no more. It was too much.
“It is altogether impossible,” said Amadiro. “Are we to allow him to land on Aurora with his beard, his ridiculous clothing, his incomprehensible accent? Am I expected to ask the Council to agree to hand over a Spacer woman to him? It would be an act absolutely unprecedented in our history. A Spacer woman!”