James P Hogan. Giant’s Star. Giant Series #3

equipment bringing information from and carrying his directions to every corner of his empire, he felt a deep and stirring anticipation of fulfillment at the approaching appointment that destiny had set for him. It was a manifestation of the Jevlenese superiority and iron willpower of which he was both the last in a long succession of architects and the ultimate personification, and which would soon assert itself across the Galaxy.

The uniforms were not yet worn openly, and this place was not known to the Ganymeans who visited Jevlen and on occasion remained for protracted periods for various reasons. Organization, planning, and training operations were still conducted in secret, but already an embryonic officer corps was ready to emerge with an established command chain to a nucleus of trained active units upon which a carefully worked-out recruitment program could begin building at short notice. The factories hidden deep beneath the surface of Uttan, one of the remote worlds controlled by Jevlen, had been steadily accumulating weapons and munitions for several years, and the plans to switch the whole Jevienese industrial and economic machine fully to a war footing were in an advanced stage.

But the time was not yet quite right. On one or two occasions the events of the past few months had almost prompted him into being swayed by the overreactions and panickings of his lesser aides and acting prematurely. But by thinking clearly and with courage and sheer willpower he had steered them through the obstacles and annihilated the problems one by one until finally only the matter of the Shapieron remained. And that would be disposed of very soon now. He had been tested and found not to be lacking, as the Cerians would discover for themselves as soon as the inhibiting yoke of Thurien had been cast off. But not yet . . . not quite yet.

“Target closed to within one scan period,” JEVEX announced. The atmosphere in the room was tensely expectant. The Shapieron was approaching the device that had been transferred into its path via a toroid projected several days earlier in order for the gravitational disturbance to be outside the range of any Thurien tracking instruments following the ship at the time. The device itself, packing a nucleonic punch of several gigatons and programmed to detonate automatically on proximity, was gravitationally passive and would not register on the Thurien tracking system, which operated

by computing the spatial location of the stress field produced by the ship’s drive. JEVEX’S statement meant that the bomb would go off before the tracking system delivered its next update.

Garwain Estordu, one of Broghuiio’s scientific advisors, seemed nervous. “I don’t like it,” he muttered. “I still say we should have diverted the ship and interned it at Uttan or somewhere. This . . .” He shook his head. “It’s too extreme. If the Thuriens find out, we’ll have no defense.”

“This is a unique opportunity. The Ganymeans are psychologically ready to blame Earth,” Broghuilio declared. “Such an opportunity will not come again. Such moments are to be seized and exploited, not wasted by timidity and indecision.” He looked at the scientist disdainfully. “That is why I command and you follow. Genius is knowing the difference between acceptable risk and rashness, and then being willing to play for high stakes. Great things were never achieved by half-measures.” He snorted. “Besides, what could the Thuriens do? They cannot match strength with strength. Their heritage has left them sadly ill-equipped to deal with the realities of the Universe on the terms that the Universe dictates.”

“They have survived for a long time, nevertheless,” Estordu observed.

“Artificially, because they have never faced the test of opposition,” General Wylott declared, taking up the party line from one side of Broghuilio. “But trial by strength is the Universe’s natural law. When the more natural course of events unfolds, they will not prevail. They are not tempered to spearhead the advance into the unknowns of the Galaxy.”

“There speaks a soldier,” Broghufflo said, scowling balefully at Estordu and the rest of the scientists. “You bleat like Ganymean sheep while you are in the safety of the fold, but who will protect you when you go out onto the mountain to face the lions?”

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