"Smith, E E Doc - D'alembert 09 - Omicron Invasion" - читать интересную книгу автора (Smith E. E. Doc)

Three days after the team's return, Zander von Wilmenhorst flew to Moscow to brief Empress Stanley Eleven personally on everything they'd uncovered. The meeting took place in the Imperial Council Chamber, a somber room that befitted such somber tidings. The heavy gold and brown velvet tapestries dampened sounds even before they reached the soundproofed walls. The leather-topped oval conference table dominated the room, but the oversized leather chairs around it were mostly empty. Because of the highly secret nature of the briefing, the only people present were the Empress, the Head, and Lord Admiral Cesare Benevenuto.
"The aliens call themselves the Gastaadi-at least, we think that's how it should be pronounced," the Head began. "We're a bit weak on their spoken language. They've got a sizeable little empire of their own located in toward the galactic hub-something like nine hundred planets, if we read the figures correctly."
The Empress did a quick check on her wrist computer, the only jewelry, other than the imperial crest ring she always wore, on the deep blue uniform she'd donned for a decoration ceremony earlier in the day. "That's only about sixty percent the size of ours."
"True," Benevenuto said. "But when we're talking about numbers like that, such comparisons mean little. If it comes to all-out war, for instance, we'll have more volume to defend. We're far more spread out, while their worlds are in a more compact arrangement. Both sides have such vast resources to draw on that a protracted war could last for decades."
"That doesn't sound promising," Edna Stanley muttered.
"I'm in the business of doing, not promising," her admiral told her. "I try to deal with the facts, not beautify them."
"How could they know so much about us when we didn't even know they existed until a couple of weeks ago?" Edna asked.
"We've lost a number of scoutships in that region of space over the last few years," von Wilmenhorst told her. "We didn't think anything of it at the time; finding new worlds is a highly risky business, and scoutships are lost all the time. But now that we knew what to look for, we ran a correlation check through the Primary Computer Complex and discovered that far more of our ships were being lost in that direction than anywhere else. The Gastaadi must have been capturing our people and interrogating them to find out about our capabilities. I don't know how they managed to do such thorough reconnaissance work on Omicron without being discovered-but with our not even suspecting they existed, they probably had an easier time of it than I'd like to imagine.
"Technologically, they seem about on a par with us. They do some things differently than we do, but we could do the same things if we chose. Their ships operate on the same subspace principles, they use energy weapons similar to our blasters, and so forth. We're ahead of them on a couple of minor points-we build bigger and faster ships, and our blasters have better range-but they have two things we don't. For one thing, they seem to have some device that jams subcom transmissions on a planet-wide scale; there's no reference to it in the documents we captured, but that's the only explanation I can think of for how they managed to blanket Omicron so completely after the invasion began. For another, they've got a device that seems to enslave the human will; our scientists are looking it over now. It worked on no less a subject than Agent Periwinkle, and if it works on her it'll work on anyone."
The Empress shuddered. She knew Yvette Bavol's strength of will only too well. If there was a device that could subjugate her, it was a frightening concept indeed.
Lord Admiral Benevenuto picked up the narrative thread when von Wilmenhorst paused for breath. "Despite the smaller size of their empire, the Gastaadi have a larger fleet than ours. They seem to be of a more militaristic bent than we are, and they translate everything into military terms. As Zander said, our ships are a little better equipped, which may compensate a bit for their larger numbers, but not much. We saw what they were willing to do to Omicron; they're aggressive, ruthless fighters convinced that force is everything. If they have their way, what happened on Omicron will be the pattern they'll set for the rest of the Empire."
"How can we be sure of that?" the Empress asked. "I'm not doubting what they did on Omicron, but they had a specific reason for being so thorough there-they wanted to maintain as much secrecy about themselves as possible. Now that their secrecy is blown, perhaps they won't be as oppressive."
Von Wilmenhorst shook his head sadly. "Not from what our experts have been able to deduce about the Gastaadi nature. They seem to respect power and nothing else. After conquering Omicron, they showed complete disdain for the survivors. They gave almost no consideration to the possibility that anyone would fight back, and took few security precautions. That worked in our favor, or our reconnaissance team wouldn't have been as successful as it was-but it does mean they show almost no concern for the innocent victims of their aggression. Any planet that falls into their hands will be a hellhole in a matter of days. Their plans indicate they intend to move soon against more Empire worlds."
"Yes, I understand we captured some of their plans. What exactly is going to happen?"
Benevenuto cleared his throat. "According to what we saw, their entire fleet has been massing for the past month. Omicron was just a test case, their equivalent of dipping a toe in the water. With that mission being so successful, they should be ready to begin in earnest. The documents we've seen call for a massive strike into Empire territory with their entire fleet, hitting perhaps a dozen planets at once, leaving an occupation team behind, and moving on to more worlds in quick succession. In just a few days they could take a major bite out of the Empire, then dig in and prepare themselves for another major offensive. The documents were unclear in this regard, but it looks as though they mean to cut a path through from Omicron to the Caronamine Cluster, isolating nearly a third of our planets on the other side and making them easy targets to be picked off at leisure."
"But will they go through with these plans now that we know about them?" the Empress persisted.
"Again we have to rely on what little we know about Gastaadi psychology," von Wilmenhorst replied, "They know that some of our people were on Omicron, broke into their headquarters, and then escaped again, but they can't be sure how much information they took with them. If I were in charge of their planning I'd have to make the assumption that all the plans were compromised and start from scratch-but it might not be that simple. For one thing, as Cesare can tell you, it's no easy task to bring your entire fleet together in one place for a major assault; the logistics are staggering, and once you've gone to so much trouble you might be reluctant to rethink your strategy. For another, there's the Gastaadi disdain for an opponent it beat so easily on Omicron. Even if we know their plans, the Gastaadi know it will take us time to build up our own forces to counter them, and they don't have much respect for us anyway. They could just bull ahead in spite of us, confident they can overcome anything we throw in their path."
The Empress stared thoughtfully into space for a few moments, digesting the unhappy news her advisors had given her. The two men waited silently, unwilling to interrupt her train of thought. Finally she focused again and looked at them. "Khorosho, my lords, what is your recommendation?"
"We must prepare instantly for all-out war," Admiral Benevenuto said without hesitation. "A complete mobilization. It would take us a couple of weeks to get the entire fleet together from the outlying regions, but we could have nearly two-thirds assembled within four days. We would leave a sizeable guard around Earth itself, in case the Gastaadi mount a sneak attack, and there would be an emergency craft to evacuate you and any other high officials you designated if the situation became too dire. For the bulk of our fleet, we have two options-either we could wait and intercept the Gastaadi as they sweep in, or we could try a pre-emptive strike against the position we know they're holding at present."
Edna Stanley looked to von Wilmenhorst, and the Head nodded his agreement with Benevenuto's plan.
The Empress was still hesitant. "I must say, I don't like it. Aside from a few bloody rebellions, the Empire's never been to war. I hate to be the one to set a precedent like this. We haven't even tried talking peace with the Gastaadi. Perhaps there's some way we could negotiate before we commit ourselves to fighting."
Von Wilmenhorst shook his head sadly. "None of us are very happy at the idea, and I understand perfectly how you feel . . ."
"Do you?" Edna snapped harshly. "Do you know what it's like to make a decision that will commit trillions of citizens to a war against some unknown enemy-a war that could be the most devastating and brutal in human history?" Her voice softened again as she returned to her normally cool demeanor. "You're good men, both of you, but you're so used to pushing ships and spies around on your gameboards I get the impression you sometimes lose track of the fact there are real people out there whose lives are at stake. The people are the Empire: I may hold the ultimate authority, but I'm also ultimately responsible to them. I never allow myself to forget that. The Stanley Dynasty has endured this long because we've held the citizens' trust; even the few really wretched monarchs have been tolerated for the sake of the good ones.
"Every time I make a decision or issue an edict, I wonder what the common citizens will think about it. Will it help them or hurt them; will it make the Empire a better place to live, or will it benefit only the elite few? Gentlemen, can I really commit my people to a horrible, bloody war without at least exploring some avenues for peace?"
The two men were silent for a moment; then von Wilmenhorst spoke up. "Perhaps sometimes we are guilty of depersonalizing the conflicts we plan, but we still have the same ultimate objective: the welfare of the Empire. And in this particular case, I'm afraid negotiation will do us no good at all. Again, it's a matter of the Gastaadi psychology. As far as they're concerned, we're in an inferior position. We lost a planet and then we try to negotiate with them; to them it's a sign of desperation, of bargaining out of weakness. Their method of dealing with that is to mount more attacks. They simply won't bargain with someone they don't respect, and they won't respect us until we've shown them we can stand up and fight as well as they can. We didn't ask for this war, we didn't want it, but it's been shoved in our faces and we've got it whether we like it or not. If we wait, we encourage them to come in and ravage the Empire. If we fight now, perhaps we can impress them enough to talk peace. A short fight at the beginning might save millions of lives later on."
The Empress looked at the two men, studying their faces carefully. "You're both resolved on this, then?" When they nodded gravely, she took a deep sigh and continued. "You're the two people I trust most on matters of imperial security. You've been proved right time and time again; I'd be a fool not to listen to you now despite my own misgivings. I'd rather not be remembered as the first empress to lead her people into war, but these dubious honors often come unbidden.
"Cesare, you said we had a choice of either sitting back and defending against their planned strike or else taking the battle to them. I choose the latter. If we're going to make them respect us, then by damn we're going to go all out. They've already breached our territory; we won't wait for them to come a millimeter further in. If we can mount a decent strike force, I insist we take the initiative. If we hit them hard enough, they'll see we mean business and maybe they'll sit down and talk."
"About mounting that strike force," Benevenuto began slowly, but the Empress cut him off before he could finish.
"Yes," she said, "you mentioned their fleet is bigger than ours and you could only get two-thirds of ours together in time. Even with surprise on our side, that leaves us at a disadvantage, doesn't it?"
Von Wilmenhorst cleared his throat. "There is the standing offer of an alliance."
"So I recall." Edna Stanley slumped ever so slightly in her chair: for the first time von Wilmenhorst could ever remember, she actually looked old. "Bozhe moi, how I hate the thought of dealing with that woman."
"No more than I do," the Head acknowledged, "but she's delivered on her promise so far and we do need her help."
"She's promised enough ships to bring our fleet up to complement if we make the attack," Benevenuto added.
"But at what ultimate price?" the Empress muttered. "Khorosho, how do I get in touch with her?"
"I thought it best not to bring her here physically," the Head said. "With her robot body she'd be difficult to restrain and might pose a threat to you. She's still up at Luna Base: there's a direct access line open." At the Empress's nod, the Head touched some controls on the side of the table and a triscreen hidden in the wall lit up to show Lady A's features.
The Empress's enemy had seldom looked more regal. She'd admitted to surreptitious ownership of an apartment in Moscoviense, the support town around Luna Base proper, and had gotten new clothes from there. She was currently wearing a malachite-colored bias-cut gown of panne velvet with a cloak of rare Falstaffi silver fur draped over her shoulders. Her hair was braided and coiled to resemble a crown, and her earrings were oval emerald pendants with small computer chips embedded in them. When she saw Edna watching her, she let the cloak slip off her shoulders to show a chip embroidered on her gown as an imperial crest.
"Hello, Edna," she said casually. "I trust the situation has been adequately explained to you."
"You will show me the proper respect!" Edna stormed.
Lady A showed no fear at this display of imperial temper. "You forget who you're talking to. I was the intimate of an emperor, your grandfather. As a matter of fact, we once made love on the floor under that very table you're seated at. But for the quirks of fate and genetics, child, I would be Empress and you my granddaughter."
"Considering what happened to your real granddaughter, I'm very glad I'm not."
"You can't hurt my feelings with old accusations, and time is short. Do you want my help against the Gastaadi?"
"What was your price?"
"As I told Zander before, I want governance of all worlds we take from the Gastaadi, to be independent of the Empire. You can keep your realm intact, and I get to build an empire of my own. It's a small price, giving away something that isn't yours in the first place."
"I'm worried about deals that sound too good. Besides, my advisors tell me we don't really need you."
"Either you're lying or they're bigger fools than I thought. If you say no, I'll simply take my organization underground. The Gastaadi will come slashing through the Empire. Perhaps they'll win, perhaps you will. But whoever wins will be weakened from the fight, while my troops will be nice and fresh. I'll pick apart the winner and take what I want. Remember, I've got time on my side. I took seventy years to build an organization to challenge you, I can wait another seventy if I have to."
"All that presupposes I let you return to your organization," Edna said.
"Khorosho. I'm a self-admitted traitor, and the punishment is death. I'm on Luna Base, surrounded by people with blasters who could carry out an execution order at any moment. If you don't need me, kill me now-because if you let me leave, it means the end of the Empire."
The two women stared at one another through the triscreen, a duel of wills waged across nearly four hundred thousand kilometers, that separated Earth and the Moon. Lady A was making a power play, naked and unashamed. She knew the cards she held, and she knew her adversary didn't dare execute her while this external threat to the Empire's security still existed. She appeared to relish throwing the challenge in her enemy's face.
For her part, Edna Stanley also knew the ground rules of this game. She'd let herself be suckered into playing it by rising to the other woman's bait of insolence. Now she either had to kill an ally she needed to save the Empire or else back down and lose face.
Brought up as she'd been on the values her father taught her, there was no question which choice she'd make. The safety of the Empire had to come before her own personal gratification. She cursed herself mentally for being foolish enough to be led down this path, and chalked it up as a lesson well learned. Yielding to Lady A on this point would be personally embarrassing, but it would never show in the history books; losing a war and millions of lives to a barbaric enemy would.