'Politicians,” he muttered. “Why do they always have to meddle in a fight?'
When he faced both Laney and Charteris on a split screen a few minutes later, his forebodings were justified. Charteris, looking as though he had had as bad a time waiting as they had had fighting, spoke firmly.
'No pursuit. Keep watch out there until it's certain that they're on their way back to Orion.'
'And we just let them go?'
Charteris nodded. “We do. This thing isn't generally known yet, though there are rumors. I shall announce that an unidentified force of ships, apparently from some totally unknown power beyond the civilized galaxy, attempted to attack Earth and were repelled by the UW fleet and the Fifth Lyra.'
'For God's sake!” cried Birrel. “You're giving Solleremos an out — deliberately!'
'Yes,” said Charteris.
'But why?'
'We've had to fight a battle,” said the chairman. “Thanks to your help, we won it. But we don't want to have to fight a war.'
CHAPTER 20
For forty-eight hours, while they kept watching beyond the system of Sol, Birrel raged. During that time messages came in to New York from one Sector capital after another, pledging aid and assistance in case the unknown attackers should return.
'Unknown,” said Birrel furiously. “Every capital in the galaxy knows where they came from. And listen to this — this one tops everything'
It was the message — a bit belated — that Solleremos had sent to the United Worlds. Orion was shocked by the mysterious attack on Earth. Orion would use every resource to attempt to learn the origin of the attackers. The Governor of Orion solemnly promised his aid against them, if they came back…
Birrel broke off and said a profane word.
'I don't know,” said Garstang hesitatingly. “Maybe it was better at that to give Solleremos this way to cover up. Without it, this thing would go on and on.'
Birrel turned on him angrily. “So you think Charteris was right to snatch the battle away from us just when we'd won it?'
Garstang shrugged. Then he quit being diplomatic and said doggedly, “We haven't had a war since the old days before space-travel. We don't want one, even if we have to let Solleremos off easy to prevent it. Do we?'
Birrel started a hot answer, but stopped. He realized, hard as it was to admit it to himself, that what Garstang said was simple truth.
'Oh, hell,” he said, turning away, “everyone knows my job better than I do.'
Even though Charteris and Garstang might be right, even though the old demon of war, that had been kept caged for many generations, should not be let loose, what was Ferdias going to say to this? The Fifth had carried out Ferdias’ mission, had prevented Solleremos’ grab at Earth. But he could have weakened the power of Orion to do further mischief if he had been able to maul those two squadrons more, and he had not done so. He worried about it.
He was still worried when they finally returned to Earth, leaving a strong guard of UW scouts out on watch. But when the Fifth followed Laney's fleet in, and touched down at New York spaceport, Birrel got a surprise.
It was twilight and the ships of the Fifth loomed up like scarred, battle-weary giants in the dusk. Birrel, walking along the side of the Starsong with Garstang, saw the scars in the side of the great hull. They were not from enemy action — a ship hit by a missile was just annihilated — but from the drift. Every pebble in the Belt seemed to have left its mark, one compartment had been holed twice and only its automatic bulkheads had saved the ship. But the Stardream, next in line, was worse hit than that. A sizable chunk of stone had got through its proximity-radar defenses and had smashed in some of the armor near its stern like tin.
Four major ships gone, with all their crews, and six scouts, and a lot of damage to repair. Birrel felt a reaction of weariness and distaste. He heard a distant uproar of voices over in the part of the spaceport where the even more battered ships of the UW had landed, but it was not until he and Garstang had passed the Stardream that they could see what caused the growing noise.
Men — hundreds of men in the black UW uniform — were running toward the ships of the Fifth. They were utterly without discipline or organization, they were nothing but a yelling mob, and Birrel, tired as he was, felt shock as he contrasted them with his own disciplined crews marching out of their ships. What were they doing, what was the matter with their officers to let them behave like this?
He stared. The UW men were heading, all along the mighty line of the Fifth, toward his own debarking crews. The Earthmen reached the Lyrans. They hit them with their fists. They grabbed them and wrestled them to the ground. They pounded their backs, shook their hands, yelled at them, their voices wild, their faces shining in the twilight.
'What the devil—'
'They're just saving hello,” said Garstang. His voice was mild, but he was grinning. “We fought a battle together, and we won it. Remember?'
Birrel saw that the discipline of the Fifth was crumbling. His crews were breaking ranks under the assault of the rejoicing Earthmen. They were yelling back, striking hands, pounding the backs of the Earthmen in their turn.
'This,” said Birrel, “is a fine way for trained men to act.'
There was no conviction at all in his voice.
A quartet of officers in black came toward him and he recognized Laney. The admiral's face was stony, but there was a fire in his eyes that he could not conceal.
He shook Birrel's hand and said stiffly, “My congratulations, Commander. Very well handled. Very.'
Birrel said politely, “Well, I must admit that that suicide charge you put on made it a little bit easier for us.
They looked at each other poker-faced for a few moments and then they both began to laugh, and shook hands again.
Venner pushed his way into the group and spoke to Garstang. And in a moment Garstang, suddenly on his best military behavior, came up to Birrel.
'Sir,” he said, “Starsong requires your presence aboard.'
Birrel's nerves made a high-jump and then froze. Garstang's face was perfectly impassive, and so was Venner's, but there was only one reason why Starsong would suddenly require him back aboard now. The long awaited message from Ferdias must be coming through.
He turned back to Laney. “Excuse me, sir?'
Laney waved him away. “We all have many things to attend to.” He glanced out over the yelling, cheering mob of men in black and blue uniforms and then he said absently, before turning away, “Do you suppose we should tell the men to stand at ease?'
Birrel went back to the ship with Garstang and Venner.
There were two messages. One was in open code, and addressed to the whole Fifth Lyra. Well done, it said. Lyra Sector and I, personally, are proud. Ferdias.
The second one was in closed code, for Birrel alone.
He took it to his quarters and looked at it stonily for a time before he started to decipher it. He was still worrying about the non-pursuit of Solleremos’ squadrons, and the open message to the Fifth did nothing to reassure him. Naturally, Ferdias would congratulate all hands. There was nothing else he could, or would, do. But the private message to the Commander might not be so friendly. It might even conceivably be something like, You are hereby replaced in command by… At this end, Birrel felt that he had had no choice but to go along with the orders of the UW Council. But from where Ferdias sat, it might look different.
Birrel sighed and began his decoding.
The first sentences relieved his worries. Who says you're not a diplomat? Good work, Jay.
But the next sentence started his worries all over again, but in a different way.
