One day Argit summoned Horsip to his office. Looking as if he had gone through several weeks of penance and fasting, Argit nevertheless spoke with satisfaction.
“When you want a stubborn, headstrong individual to do something,” said Argit, “one way is to argue against it. Think up plausible reasons why you might want him not to do it, and act accordingly. The odds are good that he will end up doing what you tell him not to do, which, of course, is what you really want him to do.”
Horsip thought it over. “You’ve persuaded the natives to—”
“They have persuaded me to open up the Integral Union to them. Believe me, Horsip, there is all the difference in who persuades whom.”
“Now it’s their idea?”
“Exactly.”
“But why wouldn’t we want them to spread out?”
“Obviously—from their viewpoint—our supposed fear that they might take over the Integral Union. Of course, I never mentioned it. They deduced it.”
Horsip thought of the number of star systems in the Integral Union, and his mind boggled.
Argit smiled. “Remember, Horsip, they have no real feeling yet for space. They’ve had no experience. They don’t appreciate the order of magnitude involved. But they’re moving in the direction we want. Now, for the first benefit of this policy, I will want your help, Horsip, in attending a meeting of the Supreme Staff, where we will evaluate a new military department, and the . . . ah . . . man in charge.”
Horsip looked interested.
“Who is he?”
“His name is Towers. Let’s see, John Towers.”
“A lop-tail?”
Argit winced. “If we are going to get desirable results, Horsip, I think it would be just as well for us to call them ‘Earthmen.’ ”
“He’s one of the locals?”
“Yes. And as nearly as we can discover, his ideas, directly and indirectly, have cost us better than half a million casualties.”
“He must be one of their highest officers.”
“No. Ideas are not so rare with them as with us, so they don’t value good ideas properly. This officer is appreciated only by a few loyal followers. He has the temporary rank of brigadier general, and the permanent rank of major. He is outspoken, and he has highly placed enemies. To get him out of their way, these enemies have cleverly decided to unload him on us. I think we can use him. We are going to have a special meeting of the Supreme Staff to consider the matter. We will need someone with firsthand experience of these Earthmen.
“And,” added Argit, frowning, “we may run into opposition on the Staff itself. I’ll appreciate your support.”
Horsip considered what it would be like to have some Earthmen on his side for a change.
He nodded cheerfully. “I’ll do my best.”
* * *
Horsip, aboard the warship that served as their headquarters, looked on with awe as the generals of the Supreme Staff settled into their massive seats around the oval table. There was a creak of leather, the rustle of paper, the snap of lock-levers as the seats were adjusted. Then, halfway down the long side of the table, Argit, Chairman of the Supreme Staff, cleared his throat.
“The fourth meeting of the twentieth session of the present cycle is hereby opened. This meeting was called to consider a new military department. The secretary will note that all members are present, and will read the summary of the previous meeting.”
A thin, nervous-looking individual at a small side table rose to his feet.
“Summary, third meeting, twentieth session. All members were present, two regional seats unfilled due to vacancies. Business at hand was to evaluate performance of General Klide Horsip, Planetary Integrator of Earth. Testimony of General Argit favorable. Records and reports examined. Exhibits: stitching-gun, portable; several rolls four-tooth fang-wire; flying bomb with Q-metal warhead; disassembled warhead mechanism; scale models, traveling forts; other exhibits, listed in full minutes. Much discussion. Examination of casualty figures. Lively discussion. General Takkit moves for censure of General Horsip. Motion defeated. General Argit reprimands General Maklin for referring to General Takkit as a ‘brainless molk.’ General Argit reprimands General Roffis for correcting General Maklin, to say General Takkit is an ‘addled molk.’ General Maklin moved for approval of General Horsip’s conduct. Motion passed. General Argit raises question of empty regional seats. Lively discussion. General Roffis proposes General Horsip to fill vacancy. Motion passed. General Argit raises question of second vacancy. Much discussion, no agreement. General Argit closes meeting.”
The secretary sat down.
Horsip, dazed, was escorted to a seat at the table. Argit cleared his throat.
“We welcome our new regional member, and trust he will add to the wisdom and harmony of these meetings. Horsip, we need your experience on this next item of business. Now, we have approved the plan, and the High Council has sanctioned it, to give every opportunity to these Earthmen to disperse. We have now been offered use of an Earth military unit—”
A bull-necked general seated to Argit’s left cleared his throat.
“Gride Maklin speaking. Let the secretary get it in the minutes that I’m opposed to arming native troops. The Great Records show we’ve already had two revolutions and an interstellar war out of that.”
Argit said politely, “General, there’s no need to interrupt. You’ll have full time, during the discussion.”
“I want it in the minutes before you get us convinced in spite of ourselves. We don’t control a gun some native’s got in his hands. Out men get soft, and theirs get tough. Next they jam our tail in the meat grinder. No, thanks. We’ll keep the guns, and we’ll do the fighting. That’s simpler.”
Argit growled, “You’ve got it into the minutes now, General.”
Maklin nodded. “It had to be said. Armed natives are poison.”
A slender general near Horsip snarled, “Secretary, note that Dorp Takkit opposes Maklin’s giving the background discussion.”
A white-furred, steely-eyed general at the far end of the table looked around.
“Sark Roffis. Note, Secretary, that I back General Maklin’s opposition to native troops, and I back it to the hilt.”
Takkit snarled, “We have one chairman. We don’t need three.”
Another general growled approval.
A murmur arose like a hornet’s nest when someone jars the tree.
Argit said, very courteously, “The opposing viewpoints are now on record. I hope that any further comment can wait until we reach the discussion. Otherwise I will have to censure it, and the censure will go in the condensed summary. The High Council always reads the condensed summary.”
There was a silence that bulged with unspoken comment, and Argit went on.
“These Earthmen have technological ability demonstrated in action, and shown in previous exhibits. They have been granted full partnership with Centra. ‘Full partners’ have to do their share of the fighting. The Earthmen are not going to be armed by us. Despite everything we can do to disarm them, they are still armed to the teeth, by their own efforts, and this unit in particular has a method of fighting that ought to be put to use for Centra’s benefit.
“The question,” said Argit, “is not of arming native troops, but of putting the prowess of this special unit to work for Centra. We have already suffered severely from the operations of this unit, and now, since the unit’s commanding officer is unpopular with his short-sighted superiors, we can whisk this unit out from under the control of the Earthmen and put it to use ourselves. The general in charge of the unit is right outside, and we can call him in and evaluate the man and his methods.”
There was a silence when Argit finished, and then the discussion began. General Maklin still opposed the idea, but he and everyone else wanted to see this native general. Argit turned to the guards.
“Show in General Towers.”
* * *
The guard escorted into the room a trim Earthman, whose uniform bore a double row of ribbons, wings, and other emblems. The officer’s bearing was quiet, but there was an indefinable something about him that made Horsip uneasy.
Around the table there were creaks, scrapes, and snaps as those with their backs to the door craned, shoved their chairs back, or pivoted around. Then came a grunt and murmur at the sight of the tailless, almost furless alien.
It came to Horsip that the indefinable something about this native was his quiet unimpressed look. There was no need to put him at his ease. He was at his ease.
Argit was saying, “Members of the Supreme Staff, this is Brigadier General John Towers. General Towers, we are considering the suggestion that you and your Special Effects Team serve as part of the Centran Armed Forces. What is your view of this?”
Towers said warily, “It’s an idea.”
Argit frowned. “Perhaps you’d care to give us your opinion?”
Towers looked stubborn.
“It all depends on who is over us, and how he operates.” Towers, narrow-eyed, looked over the Supreme Staff, and, for an instant, Horsip seemed to see how he and the others must look to the Earthman: