CONE: (Shakes her head). Cassius’s motives may have changed since the planet-wreckers a year ago. In fact, I believe they have changed.
JUBA-RYDER: On what do you base this assumption?
CONE: My communication with Admiral Sulla.
JUBA-RYDER: This is an amazing statement. You have spoken with the chief Ultraist?
HAWTHORNE: At my orders, she has.
JUBA-RYDER: (Glancing from Hawthorne to Cone). What does Sulla say?
CONE: There is a fierce battle going on between the Highborn. Cassius has been losing political ground as new commanders rise up. Then several weeks ago, things began to change. Sulla believes Cassius resorted to assassination in order to place one of his people in high command, namely, the newly promoted Admiral Scipio.
JUBA-RYDER: Is assassination unusual among them?
CONE: Apparently, it is. It means the Grand Admiral has possibly changed his feelings about murder and now willingly employs it as a tactic. I find that troubling.
JUBA-RYDER: I find your admission of communication with Sulla troubling. We’ve spoken here about our distrust of Cassius. Sulla is an Ultraist. Yet apparently we have no problem speaking with him. Sulla’s view about us is even harsher than the Grand Admiral’s. For what possible reason could Sulla be speaking with us, and why do you seem to trust him?
CONE: (Looks at the Supreme Commander).
HAWTHORNE: (Nods).
CONE: Our
JUBA-RYDER: (Sits up). Sir, this communication with the Ultraist could be a trap. Sulla—it seems obvious what is happening. This is a loyalty test by them. The two Highborn work against us, they are testing to see if
HAWTHORNE: The citizens of Social Unity are not their subjects.
JUBA-RYDER: If we take the Force-Leader’s words at face value, the Highborn believe we are animals. An Ultraist would have an even lower opinion about us. We must tread with caution and keep out of their political battles.
CONE: The Director’s unease mirrors my own feelings. I find myself at a loss in this situation. I distrust both Sulla and Cassius. If I had to choose, I would believe the Grand Admiral before the Ultraist. But I would not want to make the choice. Therefore, in this instance, I must agree with Force-Leader Kluge. Sir, do not meet with the Grand Admiral.
JUBA-RYDER: As long as we refrain from entering into their political maneuverings, I do not see what we can lose from your meeting with Cassius.
MARTEN: (to Juba-Ryder) Have you ever been in combat with a Highborn?
JUBA-RYDER: Obviously not. I am a political representative of the people, not a soldier.
MARTEN: Then you have no idea what you’re talking about. Even without weapons, Highborn are extremely dangerous.
JUBA-RYDER: (Slaps the conference table and opens her mouth to retort).
HAWTHORNE: (speaking quickly) Could you elaborate, Force-Leader?
MARTEN: The Highborn are amazing soldiers, and they are daring to an intense degree. I wouldn’t discount the idea that they are trying to assassinate you, sir.
JUBA-RYDER: Why would they want to kill our Supreme Commander? It would shatter the alliance. The cyborgs would win then and we would all lose. Humanity would die.
MARTEN: That’s just it. Realizing humanity would die, wouldn’t you still work with the Highborn even after they killed the Supreme Commander? The stakes would be too high to face the cyborgs alone.
JUBA-RYDER: There would be no more trust.
MARTEN: Is there any now?
CONE: Not much, Force-Leader, but a little, yes.
MARTEN: That’s your first mistake. Never trust a Highborn.
CONE: We trusted them to help us with the planet-wreckers, and we were right to do so.
HAWTHORNE: Suppose I do go to Low Earth Orbit, Force-Leader? What would you suggest?
MARTEN: Take a gun.
HAWTHORNE: The Grand Admiral stipulated that neither of us go armed.
MARTEN: Then carried a concealed weapon.
HAWTHORNE: They have detectors for that sort of thing.
MARTEN: Use an implant. Those are nearly impossible to detect.
JUBA-RYDER: That is preposterous. You wish to alter the Supreme Commander of Social Unity with a bionic part?
MARTEN: These are unusual times and call for unusual actions.
JUBA-RYDER: You dare to hurl that in the Supreme Commander’s face. I find that offensive. Pray that nothing happens to our leader, Marten Kluge.
HAWTHORNE: You will desist at once with threats, Director!
JUBA-RYDER: Yes, sir. I’m sorry, Force-Leader. I wish you a long and socially useful life.
MARTEN: That’s great.
HAWTHORNE: As usual, we have had a spirited meeting. I appreciate the candor. Know that I have decided. I will meet with Grand Admiral Cassius.
MARTEN: Good luck. You’re going to need it.
HAWTHORNE: The meeting is adjourned. Security Specialist Cone, if you would remain a moment longer, please…
End of File #13
-3-
Several hours later, Grand Admiral Cassius piloted an armored shuttle toward an old command station in geosynchronous orbit above the Earth. Three other Highborn rode in back as his security team. The
The Earth hung below and masses of heavy clouds hid the majority of the surface. The cloud-cover was thick enough that surface-based lasers would prove ineffectual against the station. The proton beams were another matter. Cassius respected them. They could punch through the clouds and annihilate the station. Nevertheless, he had a plan for that and for the battleship. Checking his chronometer, he saw that he had nineteen minutes to kill Social Unity’s Supreme Commander James Hawthorne. With him out of the way, chaos would result. In the chaos, the Highborn would achieve in weeks what they had been unable to do in years: complete conquest of Earth. Once he possessed unity of command in Inner Planets, he would be ready to destroy the cyborgs.
It would be enjoyable to interview the preman. One of Cassius’s fantasies was to go back in time to speak with Alexander the Great. Another fantasy he mentally indulged in was the idea of what he could have done with one hundred Highborn during Ancient Times. He would have conquered the Earth, swinging an axe and leading an army of subservient premen.
Cassius decided that conquering the Solar System would have to do. He chuckled. The heavy lifting of his plan had already been achieved. James Hawthorne walked…floated to his death at the station. A video cam recorded it and a chemical sniffer had made its analysis: the preman was unarmed.
“Thirty premen security people are on the station,” he told his guards.
“Thirty cattle,” the chief guard said. The Highborn wore combat-armor and had bristly white hair.
