Sorvalh visited General Gau later in his personal office. It was cramped, even if one was not a Lalan, who were a tall species, and Hafte Sorvalh was tall for her species.
“It’s all right,” Gau said, from his desk, as she ducked through the door. “You can say it.”
“Say what?” Sorvalh asked.
“Every time you crouch through the door of this office, you come in, you straighten up, and you look around,” Gau said. “Every time you get an expression on your face that looks like you have bitten into something slightly unpleasant. So go ahead and say it: My office is cramped.”
“I would say it is cozy,” Sorvalh said.
Gau laughed in his fashion. “Of course you would,” he said.
“It’s been commented on by others how small this office is, considering your position,” Sorvalh said.
“I have the large public office for meetings, and to impress people when I have to, of course,” Gau said. “I’m not blind to the power of impressive spaces. But I’ve spent most of my life on starships, even after I began to build the Conclave. You get used to not a lot of space. I’m more comfortable here. And no one can say that I give more to myself than to the representatives of any of our member races. And that, too, has its advantages.”
“I see your point,” Sorvalh said.
“Good,” Gau said, and then motioned to the chair that he clearly had brought in for her, because it matched her physiology. “Please, sit.”
Sorvalh sat and waited. Gau attempted to wait her out, but waiting out a Lalan is a bad bet on a good day. “All right, say the other thing you’re thinking,” Gau said.
“Unli Hado,” Sorvalh said.
“One of the graspingly ambitious types that you warned me about,” Gau said.
“He’s not going to go away,” Sorvalh said. “Nor is he entirely without allies.”
“Very few,” Gau said.
“But growing,” Sorvalh said. “You have me with you for these sessions to count heads. I count heads. There are more of them each session who are either in his orbit or drifting toward him. You won’t have to worry about him this time, or the next, or possibly for several sessions down the line. But if this goes on, in time you will have a faction on your hands, and that faction will be agitating for the eradication of the humans. All of them.”
“One of the reasons we formed the Conclave was to rid ourselves of the idea that an entire people could or should be eradicated,” Gau said.
“I am aware of that,” Sorvalh said. “It was one of the reasons why my people gave you and the Conclave their allegiance. I am also aware that ideals are hard to practice, especially when they are new. And I am also aware that there’s not a species in the Conclave who doesn’t find the humans…well…vexing is likely the most polite word for it.”
“They are that,” Gau said.
“Do you really believe that they would be that hard to kill?” Sorvalh asked.
Gau presented an unusual face to Sorvalh. “An unusual and surprising question, coming from you of all people,” he said.
“I don’t wish them dead, personally,” Sorvalh said. “At least, not actively. Nor would the Lalan government support a policy of extinction. But you suggested to Hado they would be a formidable opponent. I am curious if you believe it.”
“Are the humans able to stand against us ship to ship, soldier to soldier? No, of course not,” Gau said. “Even our defeat at Roanoke, with over four hundred ships destroyed, was not a material blow to our strength. It was one ship out of dozens or hundreds that each of our members had in their own fleets.”
“So you don’t believe it,” Sorvalh said.
“That’s not what I said,” Gau said. “I said they can’t stand against us ship to ship. But if the humans go to war with us, it won’t be ship to ship. How many human ships went against us at Roanoke? None. And yet we were defeated-and the blow was immense. The Conclave almost fell, Hafte, not because our material strength had been compromised, but because our psychological strength had. Those ships were not what the humans were aiming for. Our unity was. The humans almost shattered us.”
“And you believe they could do it again,” Sorvalh said.
“If we pressed them? Why wouldn’t they?” Gau said. “Throwing the Conclave nations back into war with each other is an optimum result for the humans. It would keep all of us occupied while they rebuild their strength and position. The real question is not whether the humans-the Colonial Union-could attack and possibly destroy the Conclave, if pressed. The real question is why they haven’t tried to do it since Roanoke.”
“As you say, they have been busy trying to bring the Earth back into the fold,” Sorvalh said.
“Let us hope it takes them a long time,” Gau said.
“Or perhaps they have started making war on the Conclave,” Sorvalh suggested.
“You’re talking about the missing ships,” Gau said.
“I am,” Sorvalh said. “As tiresome as Representative Hado may be, the disappearance of so many ships near human space is not to be dismissed out of hand.”
“I don’t dismiss it,” Gau said. “The representative-major for the fleet has our investigators scouring the scenes and the nearby populated worlds for information. We have nothing so far.”
“Ships rarely disappear so comprehensively,” Sorvalh said. “If there’s no trace, that in itself says something.”
“What it doesn’t say is who is responsible, however,” Gau said, and then raised a hand as Sorvalh moved to comment. “It’s not to say we don’t have our intelligence net within the Colonial Union working overtime trying to find connections between the humans and the disappearances. We do. However, if we find it, we will deal with it discreetly, and without the sort of open warfare that Hado and his friends in the assembly so want us to have.”
“Your desire for subtlety will frustrate them,” Sorvalh said.
“I am fine with them being frustrated,” Gau said. “It’s a small price to pay for keeping the Conclave intact. However, it is not the discussion of the disappearing ships that is the reason I asked you here, Hafte.”
“I am at your service, General,” Sorvalh said.
Gau picked up a manuscript sheet on his desk and handed it to her.
She gave him a curious look as she took it. “A hard copy,” she said. Her assignments from him were usually offered on her computer.
“It’s not a copy,” Gau said. “That sheet you have is the only place in the entire Conclave where that information is recorded.”
“What is it?” she asked.
“It’s a list of new human colonies,” Gau said.
Sorvalh looked at Gau, genuinely shocked. The Conclave had forbidden any unaffiliated races from colonizing new planets. If they tried, the new colonies would be displaced, or destroyed if the colonists would not leave. “They can’t truly be that stupid,” she said.
“They are not,” Gau said. “Or at least, officially, the Colonial Union is not.” He pointed at the sheet. “These are what the humans call ‘wildcat colonies.’ It means that they are not sanctioned or supported by the Colonial Union. Most of these sorts of colonies are dead in a year.”
“So nothing we could call out the Colonial Union for,” Sorvalh said.
“No,” Gau said. “Except for this: We have rumors that the Bula found humans attempting a wildcat colony on one of their worlds, and that at least a few of the colonists were Colonial Defense Forces members. The Colonial Union attempted to extract the colony and were discovered doing so by the Bula. It had to part with a substantial ransom to retrieve its citizens and buy the Bula’s silence.”