“You’ll recall that once Gamma-014 had been secured, we withdrew most of our ships to protect the inner planets, and left only a handful in orbit around 014. So, when a Ramanthian battle group dropped hyper about twenty hours ago, our ships were outnumbered two to one. Although they were able to infl?ict signifi?cant casualties on the bugs, there was never any doubt as to the eventual outcome, and the surviving vessels were forced to withdraw into hyperspace or face certain annihilation.”

The news elicited a chorus of dismayed comments and some heartfelt sobs as the reality of the situation began to sink in. “So it was timed?” Zimmer inquired, her eyes bright with anger.

“Yes,” Booly confi?rmed. “As General Akoto’s troops came up out of the ground in Yal-Am, the Ramanthian ships were dropping hyper.”

“That kind of coordination would have been impossible prior to the advent of hypercom technology,” Nankool observed darkly. “It seems as if the bastards are always one step ahead of us.”

“So what’s going to happen to our troops?” Tumbo wanted to know. He was a burly man, with close-cropped gray hair, and a broad moonlike face. Everyone present knew that one of his sons was a major in the Marine Corps. Presently on Gamma-014—and right in the thick of it.

“They’re cut off,” Booly answered grimly. “And we lack the means to reinforce them quickly enough to prevent what will almost certainly be a slaughter if they are forced to surrender.”

Nankool nodded. He had fi?rsthand knowledge of what could happen to those who surrendered. “We can’t abandon them,” the politician said steadfastly. “I won’t allow it.”

“So, what’s the solution?” Cowles inquired hopefully.

“The Ramanthians made effective use of hypercom technology, and so can we,” Booly replied. “All of you are acquainted with my wife, Maylo Chien-Chu, and her company. If you approve, I’m going to ask Maylo to coordinate an effort in which civilian boats and ships will land on Gamma and evacuate our forces. Anything that has both a hyperdrive and a willing owner will be pressed into service.”

“But they’ll be slaughtered!” Cowles objected.

“Some will be,” Booly admitted sadly. “But, if there’s enough ships, and they drop hyper about the same time, the bugs won’t have enough resources to chase all of them.”

There was a long silence as the group contemplated the general’s words. It was Nankool who spoke fi?rst. “It’s a desperate strategy, but unless one of you has a better alternative, then we’ll have to go for it.” There was no response, which caused Nankool to nod. “That’s what I thought. . . . General, if you would be so kind as to contact your wife, the government would be most grateful.”

“I will,” Booly promised. “And we’ll work out the details as quickly possible.”

There might have been more discussion, except that the door to the conference room slammed open at that point, and Christine Vanderveen attempted to enter. Two members of the president’s security detail grabbed the diplomat, and were about to hustle the young woman back outside, when Nankool spotted the familiar face. “Christine? Is that you?”

“Yes, it is,” Vanderveen replied fi?rmly, as the security operatives were forced to let go of her arms. “I’m sorry to interrupt your meeting, sir, but it’s very important.”

“It had better be,” Nankool said grimly. “It turns out that you were correct about the possibility of a revolt, but that doesn’t make up for the fact you went AWOL, and entered into unauthorized negotiations with a group of people who are trying to overthrow a legally constituted government.”

Most of the offi?cials agreed and said as much. “That’s right,” one of them commented. “Who does she think she is?” another wanted to know. “The president should bring charges against her,” a third put in, as the wayward diplomat made her way to the front of the room. Vanderveen’s appearance was anything but professional. Her hair was matted, her face was covered with grime, and her clothes were caked with dried blood. Other people’s blood for the most part—acquired while working in the makeshift aid station inside Building-516. But some of the crusty matter belonged to her as evidenced by the battle dressing wrapped around the young woman’s right biceps as she turned to face the president and his staff. “I don’t blame you for being angry,” the FSO-2 said contritely. “But desperate times call for desperate measures. And, with all due respect, Mr. President, what many considered to be a legally constituted government was overthrown in order to make way for the Confederacy!”

“She has you there!” Zimmer put in lightly, and that elicited some appreciative chuckles.

“And I didn’t negotiate with the rebels,” Vanderveen put in carefully. “All I did was offer myself as a point of contact, a person who could carry a message to the Confederacy when and if the time was right. And that’s why I’m here.”

“All right,” Nankool said wearily. “Say your piece.”

Vanderveen glanced at her wrist term. “The rebels will announce a new government in one hour and forty-six minutes. The offer I brought earlier still stands. If you recognize the new government as legitimate, the provisional leadership will agree to full membership in the Confederacy, and place the Hegemony’s military under centralized command. Your command.”

“That could make a big difference,” Undersecretary of Defense Zimmer put in. “Our generals counseled against fi?ghting a winter campaign on Gamma-014, General-453 ignored them, and now look where we are! We need the Seebos. And the shipbuilding capacity that the Hegemony has.”

“That’s all very nice,” Ambassador Cowles put in cynically. “But what if the rebel leaders get killed in the next hour or so? Or, they make their announcement, and the population fails to respond? Some sort of alliance is better than none, and if you come out for the rebels only to see them go down, we’ll wind up with nothing. Or, worse yet, a new enemy! Because at that point the Alpha Clones could become so angry they would be tempted to cut a deal with the bugs.”

It was a danger, a very real danger, and everyone in the room knew it. Even FSO-2 Vanderveen. Nankool looked from face to face, made a fateful decision, and opened his mouth to speak.

The sky was clear, the air was still, and it was hot. Sirens could be heard in the distance, as the badly overtaxed Romos rushed to cope with still another demonstration. But the Bio-Security Building was surrounded by a cocoon of silence until a long string of airborne surveillance cams snaked out of the city beyond and began to circle 516 like a necklace of black pearls. Taken together, they generated a loud humming noise that caused a tremendous fl?utter of wings as hundreds of rot birds left the bodies they had been perched on and took to the air. Don’t go far, Alan thought to himself, as the scavengers lifted off. There will be more to eat soon.

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