Around the table, a number of heads nodded in agreement.
"Nor could we expect great profit in taxes over such a distance, if the colonies are autonomous. The taxes would go mostly to support our governors there, and the necessary bureaucracy and occupation forces we'd have to maintain."
Tariil paused, his wide mouth clamped for a moment as he let his argument sink in. "I do not think such a venture will be profitable," he finished. "Even assuming its success, I believe we'll regret such an invasion if we undertake it."
The Kalif had not sat down, and when Tariil had finished speaking, he replied, "I'm glad you stressed selective plundering. Which implies the organized and controlled removal of selected, high-value goods. To permit indiscriminate looting would make the people there much more difficult to govern, I do not doubt, and cause no end of trouble.
"But I consider plunder an unimportant part of the possible value of conquest there. In fact, it might be well to prohibit plundering. As for trade, it might prove more significant than you think. To be sure, in the six years needed for a single round trip, the same cargo ship could make twenty round trips between here and Veethvoktos, or ninety between here and Klestron. But mere may be cargoes available there which are still well worth hauling. I'm not speaking of bulk cargoes, obviously.
"Still, such a conquest would be expensive. The best reasons I can see for the effort and resources it would take are not economic. Consider the reasons that Rashti had in sending out his expedition: namely to find a new world to which the restless and discontented could go. And a place to which restless or discontented minds could direct their attention."
He stopped, his expression thoughtful, his attention seeming inward for the moment.
"And there is one final reason. The most important." Again he stopped, drawing out their attention. "In Chapter Twenty-seven of The Book, The Prophet wrote: 'The believer shall make known to the unbeliever the words and principles and laws of Kargh, and shall strive always to convert him to His worship.' "
With that the Kalif stopped and sat down, not making the obvious connection, simply leaving them with the words of The Prophet, and moved the session to other matters. But their discussions were less energetic than usual, as if they found it difficult to concentrate on other subjects, and he adjourned the meeting early.
The Kalif sipped an after-supper drink with Jilsomo on an open porch. It was dusk. There'd been a shower an hour earlier, a cooling rain, and low in the west, sunset gilded cloud edges.
Neither man had said anything for a time. Then Alb Jilsomo spoke. "About the possibility of invading the Confederation: What do you feel is the likeliest prospect? That we will, or will not?"
The Kalif said nothing for another quiet minute, sipping his drink and listening to an evening bird. Finally he put down his glass and turned shadowed eyes toward the exarch, speaking softly.
"I say this with all honesty: We have no real choice. When Rashti's flotilla returned, the die was cast. The news is out, and the empire, the Church, the several estates can never be the same. Whatever we do. And if we do not invade, within a generation, two at most, there will be turmoil and strife on the eleven worlds that will lead to darkness. A darkness that may be a long time lifting.
"And if we do not invade soon, any later invasion will be doomed to fail. For they know about us now, out there, and they'll hardly be sitting still. They have many more worlds than we do. Even if they're less populous singly, as apparently they are, in total they're bound to hold far more people than ours."
He directed his gaze across the garden, raised his glass and sipped once more.
"If we invade promptly," Alb Jilsomo murmured, "say within three years, do you feel we can overcome them?"
Again the Kalif answered slowly, still gazing across the garden in the dusk. "I have little doubt we can. No, the difficult battles won't be fought in space." He sipped again. "The Diet convenes at the beginning of next month. That's where the important battles will be fought."
He turned to look at Jilsomo again. "Which should be no surprise to you. My friend, I'm going to depend on your good sense and your ability to bring factions together. It won't be easy, only very, very important. An importance we shall not stress unless we have to."
Ten
The hovercar stopped in front of an apartment building, a building luxurious but not ultra. Her husband's town place; he'd shown it to her two days after their wedding, and made love to her there. Only four days ago.
He was handsome, romantic, and his family was among the oldest and best, but it hadn't occurred to her to question the anonymous call she'd gotten that morning. A call telling her about a mistress he kept in town. Although she hadn't suspected, it struck her instantly as true, and she was nineteen years old, and impulsive.
Her chauffeur held the door for her, and Leolani Reenoveseekti-Thoglakaveera got out. "Wait for me here!" she snapped; the man acknowledged the order and got back in. Her walk, as she strode through the entryway, was not her usual, ladylike gait. The receptionist recognized her, and the security guard let her pass without a word; her obvious rank and equally obvious anger discouraged interference.
At the door of her husband's fifth-floor apartment, she pressed her palm to the security panel. It knew her and opened, and grim-faced she entered. Furled umbrella tightly gripped, she looked in every room, the closets, the large shower, and found no one. The colonel was lucky; the umbrella was armed, and she'd triggered its sharp, four-inch, double-edged blade before entering.
She took several deep breaths, then retracted it. Of course, she told herself, he'd be with his doxy; she'd catch him there. She keyed reception on the living room commset.
"This is Lady Reenoveseekti-Thoglakaveera," she said. "In what apartment is the alien woman?"…
"Do not tell me you can't give me that information! I'm not just the wife of an adulterous colonel! My father is the Archprelate of Khaloom! I'll have you-"…
"Apartment 712. Thank you. Do not call there to warn him. If you do, you'll discover what real trouble is!"
She switched off, and brandishing her umbrella, left the apartment, finding 712 like a ball bearing finds a large electromagnet. At the door she triggered her umbrella blade again and rapped sharply with the handle, then waited a few seconds. The door opened. The young woman who stood there seemed neither eager, coy, nor playful. Clearly though, she'd expected someone else, and her demeanor shifted to uncertainty. "May I help you?" she asked politely.
In spite of her anger, Leolani was startled at how lovely the woman was. And how tall, mostly because her legs were long. As tall as her tall husband. Scowling, she refocused herself. "I am Leolani!" she announced.
Obviously the name meant nothing to the alien woman, though the conspicuous anger worried her. "You'd better let me come in," Leolani said. Despite her scowl, it was more a statement of fact than threat. The woman stepped back, and Leolani stepped inside. "I am looking for my husband."