He put out a call to Archier. To his fury, there was no answer. The man wasn’t contactable!
Such incompetence was all too believable! He would have him demoted yet again! He would have him cleaning the decks with the robots! The pesky human!
Gruwert suppressed his anger for long enough to think. The threat from the Tent in space still remained. The Imperial Council was supposed to be organising a special scientific organisation to deal with it, but Star Force wasn’t involved. Gruwert got the impression the Council was hoping the rent would go away on its own, which he didn’t really think was the right attitude.
If people really were reappearing from wherever it was they had vanished to, they probably had some valuable information.
He heaved himself to his trotters, telling his adjutant to stay where he was. Nothing like a personal appearance to an awkward moment for keeping the staff on their toes…
Fleet Admiral (Retired) Archier, now Acting Ship Management Officer, sat disconsolately holding hands with Hesper Positana. She had discarded her rebel’s uniform, after he had persuaded her that transportation to Diadem would not, any longer, mean a life of luxury and leisure. Instead, he had contrived to place her on the ship’s register.
“How could the humans among you let it happen?” she protested.
She still did not understand about Diadem. “It just happened,” he said simply.
“But they’re not people. They’re pigs. Pigs!”
“They are people. Hesper. To us, animals are people as well as human beings.”
“Well they’re not very nice people, are they?”
He was silent. He hardly dared mention what the future almost certainly held. A pig-ruled galaxy. A tyranny, probably, in which humans might even be relegated to second-class citizenship eventually. He was sure the pigs would never agree to share power with humans again, no matter what they said at present. The future belonged to them. They alone had the crude self-confidence, the ruthlessness, the lover of power.
Neither did he believe the coup had been as bloodless as Hiroshamak claimed. There must have been opposition. It looked, now, as if they had actually used the fleets. All except Ten-Fleet had been taken over simultaneously by senior pig officers. Obviously, then, there had been a deal of forward planning. Probably Gruwert and his pig pals had been waiting for a signal too…
“There’s talk of other species getting first-class citizenship too, if they prove themselves,” he remarked emptily.
“The weasels, most probably! They’ll grant them privileges, to make them even more enthusiastic.” Hesper squeezed his hand and leaned closer. “Just what is your loyalty to?” she asked anxiously. “Is it to the Empire, no matter who owns it? Or to mankind, and civilisation?”
“Need civilisation be man’s alone?”
“Yes!” she said emphatically. “Because only man is truly intelligent. These animals of yours—the only intelligence they have is what you gave them. It’s borrowed. Apart from that, they’re still undeveloped—not really sentient.”
Archier listened carefully to her words. They sounded novel and strange. Was this how people in the provinces thought?
He sighed. “I don’t know what you would have me do, Hesper. The pigs are in an invulnerable position. There’s scarcely any opposition that I’ve noticed among the flagship staff, and they are the most dedicated citizens in the Empire. In fact, I believe they welcome the pigs’ coup. The pigs will make the Empire strong again. Strong enough to claim the undisputed allegiance of every inhabited world. Strong enough eventually to embrace the whole galaxy—every biota-compatible planet. That’s what the people who run Star Force want, both men and animals.”
“That right, SMO,” said a lusty voice.
It was Gruwert. He came waddling forward, having apparently caught Archier’s last words. “It’s good you agree things have taken a turn for the better. But keep your communicator active in future, SMO. I’ve been looking for you.”
He swung on Hesper, peering at her. “I don’t believe I recognise you, my dear. What’s your section?”
“She’s in my department, Admiral,” Archier said quickly, noting with alarm the loathing with which Hesper stared back at his superior officer.
“And a most touching scene the two of you were putting on, if I may say so. Not showing a lack of, shall we say, enthusiasm for the new order, is she? If so you’d better talk some sense into her. Disloyalty won’t be tolerated!” His voice rose as he said this and he glared hard at Hesper. “What’s the matter with you? Don’t you want the Empire to be mighty, triumphant? The whole galaxy belongs to us of right, and it will all have to be held together. So make up your mind to it, because nothing can stop us now.”
“Something can stop you, animal.”
They turned on hearing the softly spoken words. A figure in a loose white garment was framed in the entrance to the chamber. The newcomer gazed on the scene as though not really seeing it, as though staring over their heads as something in the distance. Hesper recognised that look from her previous acquaintance with him. She knew he was observing them all keenly.
“Why, it’s the kosho,” Gruwert squealed in surprise. “I thought the pirates had killed you, kosho, or else the rent had taken you. Together with your master, the excellent Pout. What did happen to him?”
“He is safe,” Ikematsu said blandly. “He is on this ship somewhere. I saw him briefly, but he ran away from me. Yes, the rent took us. But we have returned. Everyone has returned.”
Gruwert’s eyes narrowed. He had been looking for Pout ever since taking command.
He switched his communicator to subvocal mode and spoke to his adjutant. “That man-ape, Pout. He’s on the ship, probably near where I am—I’m in the Ship Management Office. Have him found and brought to me.”
“You speak to someone,” Ikematsu said knowingly. He stepped into the room and beckoned behind him. Through the door came Sinbiane, leading Trixa by the hand and murmuring encouragement to him. The Diademian boy did not seem to know where he was. His eyes were glazed. His shoulders slumped.
Placing his hand on Sinbiane’s shoulder, Ikematsu addressed the pig. “I hear I should congratulate you on a new appointment. No doubt you are now even more anxious to have the chimera under your control. You suspected him of being the weapon that could destroy the Empire. How nearly right you were, pig. But the weapon is neither a new leader or a social idea, as you thought. That was a clever deduction, but the truth is simpler. Remember what the oracle said: ‘It has been disregarded because it is small.’ The ultimate weapon is in fact that little gun that Pout carries.”
“That toy?” Gruwert exploded. “What nonsense is this?”
The kosho, his bearing erect and with the odd stylised quality Hesper had often noticed, stepped away from the boys and swivelled to speak to all the three others present. The pig stiffened, his snout following him suspiciously.
“That electric pistol incorporates the most complete understanding of the laws of nature ever attained,” Ikematsu said. “It was made by a master of my order centuries ago, for a single reason: to render centrally governed empires impossible.
“The weapon was to accomplish this in a manner quite easy to understand. The zen gun, as it is called, is a sun-destroying handgun. To one qualified in its use the procedure is as follows. First, the gunman must get within three light years of the sun to be attacked. He then lines up the barrel with the target, and adjusts the beam so that it will spread to encompass the whole star. He then squeezes the trigger stud.
“The target star is disrupted by electrical means. As you know, positive and negative electricity differs only in the direction of the pseudo-spin of which electric force is composed. The zen gun, delving into the Simplex, inverts the pseudospin of all positive charges within the star, switching them to negative. A negligible amount of energy is involved in this simple but remarkable process. You may easily reason out the results. Since both electrons and protons now possess negative charge, there is repulsion both between the nuclei and electron shells of atoms, and between the nuclei of atoms. The star explodes. The electrons, with smaller mass, acquire the higher velocity. An expanding electron cloud totalling one four-thousandth of the mass of the whole star sweeps through the planetary system, ripping off atmospheres and destroying all life.