"I'm not following you," Mouse said in a slightly amused tone. "What's that got to do with anything?"
"Look, this centerward race... To fight it we're going to have to pull together. Generation after generation. Like an anthill. We're going to turn into a warfare race. Our whole focus will be the struggle. Kids will be born to a system that will turn them into the best soldiers possible. If they're survivors, they'll work their way up and get old in harness. They'll have kids of their own, who will follow in their footsteps. After a few generations nobody will know there's any other way of life. And then, in a way, we'll be just like the things we're fighting. The diversity will be gone. And we'll be trapped in a dead end. Because every culture is a dead end eventually. I mean, what does a warfare society do after it polishes off its last enemy? Turn on itself?"
Mouse looked at him askance. "You do worry yourself about some strange things, my friend."
"I think it's a valid concern. I think we should start taking the long view now and try to retain all the diversity we can."
"So write a report suggesting a study."
"I think I will."
"It won't matter much when they wipe us out, Tommy. And from where I sit, that looks inevitable. All we can do is delay it. That'll be like trying to keep the river from getting to the sea by bailing it with a teacup."
"Maybe. Maybe."
The ship shuddered. It seemed to twist away around them. Marathon was on her way to Stars' End, that legendary, inviolable, virgin goddess of a fortress world that had intrigued a half dozen races for countless centuries.
Twenty-two: 3050 AD
The Main Sequence
Marathon dropped hyper ten days after departing Three Sky. She cruised norm thirty hours before being joined by the heavy squadrons from The Broken Wings. Beckhart was afraid Gruber might still need convincing.
"There're a hundred harvestships there," Amy protested. "You know how big they are, Moyshe. Plus all the service ships. What makes anybody think a few dozen Navy ships could whip them? The whole Sangaree raidfleet couldn't."
"I hope you don't have to find out."
Mouse explained, "These ships were built for that kind of thing, Amy. All they can do is destroy. Especially the Empire Class. Other ships. Orbital fortresses. Cities on the ground. They were built to chew them up. What you Starfishers have is a bunch of ships built to do other things. Their guns were hung on them as an afterthought. Your harvestships were put together in jumbles, just growing, never designed for any special purpose."
"I still think you're all overconfident."
Both Thomas and Mouse shrugged. McClennon said, "You could be right. We're supposed to believe we're invincible." He glanced at Mouse. "Maybe that's why this centerward thing is so oppressive. It shakes our faith."
They were in Marathon's wardroom. Most of the science team were there too. The countdown to hyper drop had declined past the ten-minute mark. People with no duty assignment had gathered to look at what McClennon called a thirty-first-century war god.
An untouchable world. A dead metal machine voice that shrieked against the big night, threatening anyone who came near. Stars' End. The arsenal of yesterday, more securely defended than the virtue of any medieval virgin.
"You don't need to worry," McClennon said. "If there were any chance of trouble, we wouldn't be sitting around here. We'd be on battle stations."
"The Weapons people aren't on alert," Mouse said. He was staring at a small blonde woman wearing Weapons insignia over her Lieutenant's stripes. "Watch how she moves, Tommy."
McClennon smiled. "I think he's coming around. The tomcat is coming through."
Mouse reddened slightly.
"Jesus," McClennon said softly. "You? Embarrassed?"
"I don't know, Tommy. It seems like I've changed a little. I don't understand myself."
"One minute to hyper drop," a remote voice announced. It drowned in the chatter of the wardroom.
Beckhart and the chiefs of the science team stalked in and took seats near the holo globe that had been set up at the compartment's center.
"Looks smug, don't he?" McClennon said.
The wardroom fell silent, Marathon dropped hyper. In moments a featureless ball filled the holo globe. Surrounding details appeared as the ship's sensors picked them up. First came the escort vessels, then the harvestfleets, then vistas of lifeless wreckage left by the fighting with Sangaree and McGraws. The planet, though, showed no changes.
McClennon had seen it before. He was not amazed. The builder race had removed any topography Stars' End may have had. It was a world machined smooth.
"Like a big-ass cue ball," Mouse murmured.
"It doesn't look so friendly when it opens up," Thomas said. He shuddered, remembering. "It gets what looks like a sudden case of acne... "
Someone sat down beside him. At the same moment he saw a Communications messenger whisper to Beckhart and pass a flimsy. What was it? he wondered.
"Commander McClennon?"
He glanced to the side and found himself face to face with the little blonde Weapons officer. "Yes," he gulped, taken aback.
"Hi, I'm Tanni Lowenthal. Weapons." She wriggled her diminutive derriere a centimeter closer.
Mouse chuckled. Thomas turned. Storm's attention seemed inalterably fixed on the holo globe. As was Amy's, though color was climbing her throat.
"What can I do for you?" Thomas asked.
"Nothing. I just wanted to meet you. Someone said you were you, so I thought I would introduce myself. You're famous, you know." She laid a hand on his. It was small and hot and felt strong. He nearly jerked away.
Mouse made a small sound again.
"It's really strange, isn't it?" the woman asked. "Stars' End, I mean."
"Very. Especially when it's in a bad mood."
"Oh. That's right. You were here before, weren't you? When you were with the Starfishers."
The conversation lasted only a few minutes. The woman abruptly said, "That's my cue. Off to the salt mines. Bye." She squeezed his hand and looked him directly in the eye for a second.
"Bye." Baffled, he looked around to see what had happened during his distraction.
Beckhart, apparently, had announced something. He had missed it. "What was that, Mouse?"
"The Seiners have it open already. We can send our people down right away." Storm was fighting laughter. He nodded toward Tanni's departing figure. "That's what you get for asking questions, Tommy. The word gets back."
Amy glared into the globe. Her jaw was tight. Her face was red. Smoke seemed about to pour from her ears. "How did that half-witted sex machine ever earn a commission?" she demanded.
Still grinning, Mouse said, "She's probably quite competent at what she does."
"I don't doubt it a bit. She looks the type."
Mouse made a little wave signal to tell McClennon to make himself scarce. Amy was ready for a scene. A scene she had no right to make, inasmuch as she had declared her relationship with McClennon void.
McClennon rose and moved nearer the Admiral. When he had a chance, he asked, "Will I be able to go down? Just to poke around?"
Beckhart looked thoughtful. "I suppose. It seems safe. They've been down for a week and nothing's happened. But wait till the science people are all down. Ask Amy to see me in my office later, will you? I think I've got a liaison job for her."
"Yes sir." He wandered back to Mouse and Amy. Storm had calmed her down. He was still grinning.
"Tommy, I think I'll take you up on that game you've been talking about. You see a table?" The new was wearing off. Ship's crew were drifting out.
"Over there, Amy, the boss wants you to come to his office when you get a chance."