‘Thank you. I think.’
‘Before any decision is made by this council, I would like to emphasize how concerned Emilja, Soćko and even Ainsley had become by the lack of any Signal. That is why all of us in the group agreed that, after the Factory, we would press our respective worlds to consider ending expansion by generation ship and instead follow the Neána option of establishing a secluded interstellar society – built on a Utopial foundation, of course.’
‘So you believe we should do nothing about the Olyix but hide from them?’ Alexandre asked.
‘No. It is more than that. Humans can live between stars; we can thrive there in a way we never do on a generation world. And, thanks to the Vayan ambush, we now understand just how powerful the Olyix are, how widespread. They are overwhelming, and they are hunting us.’
‘I thought that was the point of our exodus, to give humans time and resources until we are strong enough to challenge the Olyix.’
Kenelm shrugged. ‘The Strike concept was put together in a time of extreme crisis, when humans didn’t properly understand what we were facing. I don’t think even the Neána did; certainly Soćko was troubled by our failures. Ainsley and Emilja managed to get what passed for the human polity of those days to support the idea of postponed vengeance and rescue, then throw in a triumphant return to Earth as the grand finale. But with no Signal ever detected, Emilja came to the realization that using lures to send our finest directly into an unknown enemy stronghold was a supreme folly. However, by then, the concept had built a colossal psychological and political momentum, which kept growing with every millennium. One person – even someone as powerful as her – could not stop it with a single proposal. Politics at that time were volatile – especially after contact with the Katos, Angelis and Neána. So instead it was decided we should adopt a double-aspect approach. The warships built by the Factory, like Ainsley, were our last attempt to secure an advantage against the Olyix. They were intended to fight them here in this section of the galaxy and establish a safe zone for humans. It is far easier to destroy a wormhole terminus carried into our territory by an Olyix ship than to challenge the enclave itself.’
‘The Saints sacrificed themselves for us!’ Dellian yelled. It was out before he really knew he’d said it. He flushed hot from all the looks directed at him – and a few smirks, too – but he didn’t repent.
‘Four humans and a Neána,’ Kenelm said smoothly. ‘Their loss is regrettable, but utterly insignificant compared to the number of humans lost to the Olyix. Billions from Earth alone – and probably quadruple that number by now as the Olyix caught up with the expansion wavefront.’
‘So you were going to abandon the Strike?’
‘That was the second aspect. Our group members would point out to councils on planets and generation ships that the Strike concept was making no progress; we were no nearer to invading the enclave than we were when we abandoned Earth. There was no Saints’ Signal detected; the lures didn’t work; we had no idea where the enclave was. So the Neána option was to be presented as an idea whose time had finally come. The pressure we could maintain – for centuries, if necessary – would eventually result in a vote for its adoption. In cases like the Morgan, I could simply say that it had been included as an order if our lure was taking an unexpectedly long time to attract the Olyix.’
‘But we beat the Olyix at Vayan,’ Ovan said.
‘Ainsley beat the Olyix at Vayan,’ Kenelm replied. ‘I’m sorry, but the Strike mission is no longer valid. Nor, with all respect to Yirella, is FinalStrike. The enclave is forty thousand lightyears away. We now have a golden opportunity to establish ourselves safely between the stars. Let the Factory ships harass the Olyix forces and raid their sensor stations; a guerrilla-style campaign will deny them an effective presence here for millennia. And who knows what we may ultimately create if we end our migration, if we can consolidate everything we build?’
‘That’s what I’ve done,’ Yirella said forcefully.
‘No,’ Kenelm said. ‘You gave humans the ability to expand without any appreciation of the consequences. That is the precise opposite of everything I stand for. Are they even Utopial?’
‘Who knows?’ she replied with mock nonchalance. ‘If it really is the pinnacle of human cultural evolution, I’m sure they chose it.’
‘I propose to this council that the fleet should now commit to following the Neána option,’ Kenelm said. ‘The neutron star civilization has revealed themselves to every Olyix sensor station in the galaxy! It is a recklessness that will have catastrophic consequences unless they understand that they have to evacuate immediately. I would suggest we dispatch a single ship of volunteers from this fleet to the neutron star to warn them and fully explain the circumstances.’
Alexandre gave Yirella an almost comical look of expectation. ‘I cannot agree with the methods this clandestine group of level-one citizens has used, but Kenelm does make a valid point about how dangerous it would be to try and invade the enclave.’
‘Agreed,’ Yirella said sweetly.
Kenelm gave her a curious look.
‘Yirella,’ Alexandre said, ‘you have the floor.’
Dellian smiled encouragingly as she got to her feet, but she never saw it; she was facing the audience completely unfazed by them. He knew where that confidence came from: She was right. She was always right.
‘We were going to lose,’ she said simply. ‘That much was obvious to me after our disastrous Vayan lure was ambushed. Ainsley only just managed to take out the upgrade-Resolution ships. He said some of their weapons were a surprise even to him. Which, given he was made two thousand years ago, isn’t
