Ganfre now suggested an alliance with Columbia. Columbia declined, pointing out that it was important to have uncommitted neutrals in any war, to help provide food and supplies in case the combatants wrecked each other, and also to give political refugees some place to go in case the worst happened. Ganfre accepted this reasoning.
Since this experience, Columbia has received a great deal of study, and it develops that all that is definitely known is that the planet was first settled by Centrans, and received a large influx of “Americans” after the treaty with Earth. These Earthmen claimed they were going to “rebuild the planet on basic American principles,” avoiding errors made on Earth. But since the planet aroused no interest earlier, no one knows what this means, and because of the off-limits decree, it is now impossible to visit the planet to find out.
Columbia therefore is indeed the “masked planet,” formidable, aloof, and powerful, a mystery to adversaries who discounted her power until too late.
Horsip looked up exasperatedly.
“Moffis, what do we have on Columbia?”
Moffis had a few thin reports opened out on his desk. “I’ve got it right here—what there is of it.”
“Let’s see the ones you’re not using. We’re going to have to give that place some thought. It seems to me—”
He looked around then, a pounding noise catching his attention.
Across the room, workmen were carrying off a bulkhead. This disclosed a room on the far side, where they were carrying in big spools of cable that ended in a maze of many-colored wires bearing fastening attachments. Other workmen were carrying in odd-shaped sections of some kind of furniture that fitted into recessed parts of the floor, the various wires from the cables being snapped, clipped, screwed, or bolted to mating parts of corresponding colors in the sections themselves. Meanwhile, other workmen were stuffing the cables into channels in the floor or walls of the room, and putting metal covers in place over the channels. Since there were cables and wires being unwound all over the room at the same time, and sections of all sizes and shapes being carried in simultaneously, this room suddenly exposed to view gave the impression of a look through the wall into a madhouse.
Moffis looked up and stared speechlessly. Horsip got to his feet. An officer with colonel’s insignia, wearing coveralls, and carrying a sheet of yellow paper in one hand, looked around, and suddenly spotted Horsip. He crossed the room briskly, and saluted. “At the command of the High Council, sir, we are activating the command’s ship Master Control Center. The equipment has been thoroughly checked, parts replaced where needed, oiled, and refinished. It’s all in first-grade condition, but if you have any trouble, just let us know, and—”
Horsip glanced from the colonel to the tangle of wires and dismantled sections of unrecognizable objects. He groped mentally for the meaning of the words “Master Control Center.” Nothing came to him but vague associations.
Horsip cleared his throat.
“Colonel . . . ah . . . what is the ‘Master Control Center?’ ”
The colonel looked blank.
“Well, sir, that’s the Master Control Center. It’s Sealed Section A-1. This room here is Open Section A-1. This work sheet says, ‘Open communication between Sealed Section A-1 and Open Section A-1.’ According to the work code, ‘open communication between two sections’ means ‘knock out the wall between them.’ That’s what we’re doing. Now, farther back, it says, ‘Recondition all equipment and reconstitute full panoply of representation and control units.’ Now, according to code—”
Horsip said, “But what does this Master Control Center do?”
The colonel shook his head.
“Sir, that’s not my department. If we stopped to figure out what all this stuff does, we’d never get the sequence checks finished.” He brightened, and shouted to a workman holding a clipboard in one thickly furred hand. The workman cupped a hand to his ear, and the colonel bellowed across the room.
Horsip glanced around, to observe that work had come to a stop among almost all his own staff. He picked up a pad, and duly noted who was still working. Then he waited until one of those not working glanced in his direction. Horsip fixed a ferocious glower on his face. The offender fairly sprang out of his skin. At once he began to bustle around. This hurricane of activity startled his neighbors, one or two of whom glanced at Horsip. In a flash, everyone was attending to his business.
The colonel nodded to his workman, and turned back to Horsip.
“Sir, the manual is in the right upper drawer in front of the Master Control Seat—that’s that thing they’re setting up now.”
Horsip looked at a thing like a big pivot chair just being lugged in, and nodded.
The colonel saluted, and hurried back to work.
Horsip turned to Moffis. “Where were we?”
“Talking about Columbia,” said Moffis. “Do you want the reports I’ve finished?”
Horsip nodded, and glanced again at the chaos in the next room.
“I wonder if the Earthmen ever have a thing like this? I suppose not.”
He took the first report Moffis handed over, and sat back to read about Columbia. From time to time he reached out for others, and at last he had read them all. He sat back, baffled. These told him that the Columbians “rely on a highly developed system of rail transportation, with great care paid to the road grade, and continuous improvement of their unusually wide-gauge system . . . Highway transportation on this planet is restricted to the original Centran road network, traveled by animal-drawn transportation, plus a limited network of roads elevated above the ground surface, and requiring little winter maintenance, as the wind ordinarily sweeps these roads clear of snow . . . Production of ground-cars is limited, but the ground-cars are exceptionally well made and durable, as are nearly all Columbian manufactures . . .”
Horsip looked up. What did all this tell him? ” . . . rumors are that the Columbian electrical underground rail transport system is to be further extended, but little is known about this development, as the Columbians rarely talk about their plans in advance . . .”
Exasperatedly, he skimmed through reports he had already read once, trying to piece together some picture that would explain the planet to him. He read, ” . . . raising of farm crops has not been interfered with as on other planets. The Earthmen apparently do nothing except to introduce some of their own farmers, these being unusual only for their manner of dress and their exceptional skill. Like Centran farmers, they do not use complicated highly powered equipment, but rely on animals to draw the equipment. . . . The Earthmen, apart from their heavily equipped factories, seem to have a great number of research facilities . . . Notable is the fact that schooling, by Earthmen’s standards, is finished quickly, formal education usually being completed by the eighteenth year . . . There is said to be a large armed force. All the Earthmen serve without complaint, certain picked Centran volunteers also being allowed to serve, it is rumored . . .”
Horsip shook his head, and sent for a list of the uncommitted planets, and those still loyal to Centra. The lists showed that there were still a considerable number of planets loyal to Centra; but they were all either awkwardly located, barren, small, or otherwise undesirable, with the sole exception of Centra itself, the Centran solar system, from its experience of numerous attacks, remaining a fortress. Here the Holy Brotherhood was so strong, and the sense of imperial loyalty so great, that the Earthmen had made no noticeable dent at all. Examining the list of uncommitted planets, Horsip found that here the Holy Brotherhood again had been active, and some of these planets were even armed. But nearly all suffered from some degree of the dictators’ influence or intimidation.
Looking over these lists, Horsip wondered if it might prove possible to make anything out of this wreck. He longed for the ancient days, when in times of trouble the central authority imposed the clokal detonak, and wielded its invincible Fleet like a sword. Studying the lists and charts, Horsip searched for a reasonable strategy—and found that the Earthmen had been there before him. Without a powerful fleet, it was impossible to piece together anything out of this scatter of bits and pieces—unless he could get the Columbians to cooperate.
Horsip glanced up at the Master Control Center, where some kind of order was starting to show through the chaos, then he turned to Moffis.
Moffis, with an expression of moody hopelessness, was skimming through reports, and shifting them from one pile to another.
Horsip cleared his throat.
“Moffis, what do you know about diplomacy?”
Moffis looked blank.
“About what?”
“Diplomacy.”
“Sir, I don’t know anything about it. Why?”
“That’s what I know about it, too,” said Horsip. “But that’s what we’re going to have to rely on. We can’t rely on force. We have to use diplomacy.”