AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“At any rate, we have to deal with what is happening now,” the president said, “which is to say, with what you’ve wrought. The Russians may stand with us. The thought that they might has given the Lizards pause.”
“Would they?” Sam knew he sounded surprised. After a little thought, though, it seemed less implausible. “If we go down, they know they’re next, and they haven’t got a prayer of fighting off the Lizards by themselves.” He didn’t think the USA and the USSR together could beat the Race, but they’d sure as hell let the Lizards know they’d been in a fight.
President Warren’s big head soberly went up and down. “I believe that is Molotov’s reasoning, yes, although you never can tell with Russians.”
In all his days, Sam Yeager had never imagined he would sit in judgment on a president of the United States. His voice hardly more than a whisper, he asked, “What will you do, sir?”
“What I have to do,” Earl Warren answered. “What seems best for the United States and for all of humanity. That’s what I’ve been doing all along.” What was intended as a smile lifted only one corner of his mouth. “Thanks to you, it didn’t work out quite the way I expected.”
Sam let out a long sigh. “No, sir, I guess not.” He started to add, I’m sorry, but that didn’t pass his lips. Part of him was, but a much bigger part wasn’t.
President Warren said, “I shall of course arrange for your release. I would be grateful for your public silence and that of any loved ones you may have informed until the present crisis ends. I am not going to order it, but I would be grateful for it.”
“How will I know when that is?” Sam asked.
The president looked at him-looked through him. “Believe me, Lieutenant Colonel, you will not be left in any doubt.”
Pshing came up to Atvar and said, “Exalted Fleetlord, the ambassador from the not-empire of the United States is here to see you.”
Atvar made the affirmative gesture. “I will see him. Show him in. No-wait. First bring in a chair suitable for a Tosevite’s hindquarters. I do not intend to insult him in any trivial way.”
“It shall be done, Exalted Fleetlord.” Pshing hurried off. He brought in first the chair and then the Big Ugly named Henry Cabot Lodge.
“I greet you, Exalted Fleetlord,” the ambassador said.
“And I greet you,” Atvar replied. “You may sit.” As far as he was concerned, the wild Tosevite didn’t really deserve the privilege, but the fleetlord had grown used to diplomatic niceties since the first round of fighting stopped. The USA and the Race were theoretically equals and were not at war-not yet. Not offering Lodge a chair would have been an insult: a small one, but an insult nonetheless. No, Atvar did not intend to offer the United States any small insults.
“I am here, Exalted Fleetlord, among other reasons, to bring you the apology of the government of the United States for the unfortunate incident involving the colonization fleet,” Lodge said.
“I am here to tell you, Ambassador, that no apology is adequate,” Atvar replied. “No apology can be adequate. I am here to tell you that the Race will have compensation for what the United States did.”
Henry Cabot Lodge’s gray-maned head bobbed up and down, the Tosevite equivalent of the affirmative gesture. “I am prepared to negotiate such compensation if you truly require it.”
“If we truly require it?” Atvar sprang to his feet. His mouth opened, not in a laugh but in a way that suggested his ancestors had been carnivores. He held out his hand so his fingerclaws were ready to tear. Had he been standing erect instead of leaning forward, had his crest risen, he would have looked ready to fight a mating battle. “We have said from the moment this outrage occurred that we would require it, once we learned who the guilty party was. You may be grateful that we have not already embarked on war without limits.”
In the abstract, he had to admire the American ambassador. The Big Ugly sat there as calmly as if he hadn’t embarked on his tirade. When he finished, Lodge said, “One reason you have not, of course, is that we could hunt you badly if you did. If the Russians join us-and we are no more certain about that than you-the damage to the Race and the lands it rules will be even greater.”
He was all the more infuriating partly because he stayed calm, partly because he was without a doubt correct. But Atvar would not admit that no matter how obvious it was. He said, “Regardless of what you can do to us, we can do far more to you.” That was also a manifest truth. “And we shall, to avenge the murder of males and females in cold sleep, before they ever had the chance to come down to the surface of Tosev 3.”
“Unless I can negotiate some other solution that would satisfy you and my government at the same time,” Lodge said.
“You know what our demands are.” Atvar made his voice hard as stone, hoping the Big Ugly would grasp his tone. “Return of the Lewis and Clark and the new ship from their present location among the minor planets. No further expeditions to those planets. American orbital forts to have their explosive-metal weapons removed to prevent further unprovoked attacks. American ground-based missiles to be reduced in number. American submersible-ship-based missiles to be eliminated. The Race’s inspectors to go where they please when they please in the United States to make certain these terms are carried out.”
“No,” Henry Cabot Lodge said. “My instructions are specific on that point. These terms are unacceptable to the United States. President Warren has not given me permission to deal with them even hypothetically.”
“You also know the other alternative,” Atvar said. “To let one of your cities be incinerated, as our colonists were incinerated.”
“No,” the American ambassador said again. “That is also unacceptable.”
“When the weak propose something, the strong may say it is unacceptable,” Atvar told him. “When the strong propose something, the weak may say only, ‘It shall be done.’ Who here is strong? Who is weak? I suggest you think carefully on this, Ambassador. If you reject both these demands, we shall have war. Regardless of the damage it may do us, it will destroy you. Do you understand?”
“I understand, Exalted Fleetlord,” Lodge said, still calmly.
“Then I dismiss you,” Atvar said. “You had better make sure that your not-emperor understands. Unless he complies with the Race’s just demands-and they are just demands, without the tiniest fragment of doubt-we sha
ll visit ruination on his not-empire.”
Henry Cabot Lodge rose and bent at the waist-not the posture of respect, but about as close to it as wild Big Uglies came. “I shall convey your words to President Warren. Shall we meet again in two days’ time?”
Atvar glared at him. “You are using this delay to increase your armed forces’ readiness to resist us.”
“No, Exalted Fleetlord.” Lodge shook his head. “We have been at maximum readiness for some time. The only way we could be more ready would be to start the fight ourselves. That, I assure you, we do not intend to do.”
“Of course not,” Atvar snarled. “We would be ready if you did. You could not strike a stealthy blow this time.”
Lodge bowed again and departed without another word. That left the fleetlord feeling vaguely punctured. As soon as the Tosevite had left, Pshing came into the office. “Any progress, Exalted Fleetlord?” he asked.
“None.” Atvar made the negative gesture. “None whatsoever.” He sighed. “We shall be fortunate to avoid another war, and this one far worse than that which we fought against the Deutsche. The American Big Uglies refuse to give up their clawhold on space, and they also naturally refuse to yield up a city to our wrath.”
“Did you expect them to yield one?” Pshing asked.
“No,” Atvar answered. “I intended to use that threat to get them out of space and to reduce their weaponry, which would let us dominate them hence-forward even if they stay nominally independent. But they plainly perceive the long-term danger in that course of events. If they refuse us, however, the danger is not long-term but short-term.”
His telephone hissed. Pshing hurried out to answer it in the antechamber. A moment later, he called, “Exalted Fleetlord, it is Fleetlord Reffet.”
Atvar wanted to speak to the leader of the colonization fleet about as much as he wanted to have an ingrown toeclaw cut free without local anesthetic, but realized he had no choice. With another sigh, he said, “Put him through.”
Reffet looked angry. That was Atvar’s first thought when he saw his opposite number from the colonization fleet. Reffet sounded angry, too: “Well, has that cursed Big Ugly caved in to our demands yet?”
