Rudal struggled to cover a look of long-suffering.
“Of course, General. Certainly. I will pass the message on at once.”
Horsip spoke slowly and distinctly.
“By command of the High Council, the clokal detonak is proclaimed throughout the Integral Union. By this command, an absolute obligation is imposed upon you, and upon every living person of Centran blood, to lay down your arms, abase yourselves before the Great One, and seek the aid of the Holy Brotherhood in again finding the True Way. If you fail to do this, you will be destroyed without mercy. You cannot negotiate. The command is absolute.”
Rudal swayed on his feet.
Horsip looked at him steadily.
Rudal opened his mouth, closed it again. “I will inform our leaders of this, General Horsip. Now, excuse me.”
The screen went blank.
Moffis said uneasily, “It doesn’t say anything in there about persons of Centran blood. Maybe it just means . . . well . . . in our own territory . . .”
Horsip smiled.
“I know what it means, Moffis. The Council isn’t commanding the people in our part of the universe to lay down their arms. The Council is commanding the ‘aberrant of the Realm.’ I know who the ‘aberrant of the Realm’ are.”
Moffis nodded unhappily, and looked at the battle screen, where a new large force of the dictators’ ships was separating from the battle with Columbia.
Moffis said, “It didn’t say we should attack them at once.”
“Truth,” said Horsip, “but we can’t wait until Columbia is captured.”
The screen came on again, to show Dictator Ganfre, backed by a vague, out-of-focus semicircle of figures. Some trick in the transmission made Ganfre look larger than life, and his words came out with subtle undertones of power.
“I am surprised, General Horsip, that one victory over a fraction of our forces should create such . . . presumption.”
Horsip said, “I will read the command of the High Council.” Horsip read slowly and distinctly, then lowered the paper. “I can’t question it, I can’t negotiate it. I can’t soften it. You have two choices—obey or die.”
Ganfre looked blank.
There was an uproar behind Ganfre and for the next fifteen minutes Horsip monotonously beat down offers of partnership, threats, attempts to buy him off—until at last the incredulous dictators saw he meant exactly what he said. Then there was a change in the atmosphere.
The communications screen at once went blank.
On the battle screen, the entire battle fleet of the dictators began to break free of Columbia. At this distance, it appeared a slow movement. But Horsip knew what it meant.
* * *
Horsip didn’t wait for the enemy to take the initiative, but attacked at once, to pin a portion of the dictators’ fleet back against the Columbians. As Horsip drove this enemy force into the eager grip of the Columbians, the rest of the dictators’ fleet curved around behind him, so that he was between two enemy forces.
Horsip, eying the battle screen, turned to his communications officer.
“Ask permission of the Columbians to enter their territory.”
“Yes, sir.”
The enemy in front of him was being slowed by the missiles, beams, and drifting minefields of the Columbians, while the enemy behind was gaining steadily.
A staff officer at another screen called, “Sir, we have a fleet showing up here.”
“What recognition signal?”
“None, yet, sir.”
There was the rap of a printer.
The staff officer said, “Here it is . . . Fleet 99, United Arms of Centra . . . Bogax Golumax, commanding.”
Moffis said, “That’s no Centran.”
Horsip’s communications officer spoke up.
“Sir, the Columbians grant permission to enter their territory.”
“Good.” He looked at the long-range screen, where an enormous fleet was beginning to loom into view, then glanced back at the battle screen.
Between Horsip’s Centrans and the Columbians, the trapped section of the dictators’ fleet was melting away like a light snow in a hot sun. But the main force of the enemy was gaining relentlessly.
Horsip spoke to his communications officer.
“Signal to Ganfre: ‘You are trapped. Surrender or be destroyed to the last ship.’ ”
Moffis grimly studied the screen. “That won’t scare him.”
“It will if he looks around.”
The battle screen now showed symbols on both sides flaring up and winking out as the enemy fleet thrust into range.
Meanwhile, “Fleet 99” loomed even more gigantic, a monster phalanx whose numbers suggested a traveling galaxy.
Horsip said, “Signal to Fleet 99, both in code and in clear: ‘We have the enemy in position. Close and destroy them.’ ”
Horsip’s ships were beginning to get the worst of it. Not only were they heavily outnumbered, but with rare exceptions they could bring beams, missiles, and other weapons to bear better to their front than to their rear. As long as Horsip fled, which he had to do, his disadvantage in fighting power was worse than his disadvantage in ships.
But now the enormous Fleet 99 began to appear in the background of the battle screen.
The enemy symbols on the screen abruptly underwent a peculiar writhing motion.
Horsip spoke sharply, “General order: ‘Reverse course. Turn by squadrons.’ ”
The screen showed Horsip’s fleet undergoing the same peculiar motion. Now he was pursuing the enemy. Though still outnumbered, this disadvantage was offset as his heavier armament came to bear on the dictators’ ships.
The gigantic Fleet 99 closed at high speed, with a smoothly flowing ease of maneuver that put the other fleets to shame.
Horsip said uneasily, “What are the characteristics of Fleet 99’s ships?”
“Still not clear, sir.”
“H’m . . .”
On the battle screen, Fleet 99 was moving with an ease which suggested something supernatural. The desperately fleeing ships of the dictators were getting the worst of it as their overloaded fire-control centers tried to deal with both Horsip and Fleet 99 at the same time.
On the screen, the enemy’s ships winked out, but now the ships of Fleet 99 began to disappear faster.
The communications officer shouted, “Message from Fleet 99, sir! Bogax Golumax to Commander United Arms of Centra: ‘The enemy is armed. Now what do I do?’ ”
Horsip kept his voice level:
“Transmit general order: ‘Reverse Course. Turn by squadrons. Maximum acceleration.’ . . . Signal Fleet 99, Commander of United Arms to Bogax Golumax: ‘Go back and get your guns.’ ”
There was an astonished murmur in the room. Experienced officers were looking around as if they had lost faith in their senses.
The screen showed Horsip streaking for the protection of the Columbian system, while the dictators tore into Fleet 99, which folded up with only the most pathetic resistance. While part of Fleet 99 was still coming forward, another part was leaving faster than it had come. Still other ships were vanishing while out of range of the enemy.
Moffis said suddenly, “That must be Able Hunter’s deception fleet!”
Horsip growled. “Who else would send a message like that?”
The officers at the long-range screen shouted, “Another fleet, sir. Approaching on the same course as Fleet 99!”
“How many ships?”
“Too distant to be sure, sir. It looks big.”
“What characteristics?”
“Lead squadrons seem to fit Centran standards.”
Horsip glanced at the battle screen. The enemy had given up pursuit of Fleet 99, and was coming after Horsip at high speed. But Horsip now had too great a lead to be caught. Once in the Columbian system, the dictators had the little problem of dealing with Horsip and the Columbians.
There was the rap of the printer.
“Sir, message from Gar Noffik, Commander Battle Fleet VII, to United Forces Commander: ‘Shall I join you, or attack them from the rear?’ ”
“Signal: ‘Join me.’ ”
Moffis snarled, “Is that fleet real?”
“I hope so. But I’m not planning to take chances.”
The battle screen showed Horsip drawing within range of the Columbian defenses. The dictators’ fleet was well behind him. Fleet VII loomed up solidly on the long-range screen, though by comparison with Fleet 99 it looked modest.
“Sir,” shouted an officer, “ships of Fleet VII have Centran characteristics!”
Fleet 99 had now vanished entirely.
An officer at the long-range screen began reading off numbers and types of ships.
On the screen, the enemy ships shifted position, and Horsip, watching closely, could see the possibilities. Ganfre might lead his whole fleet against Fleet VII before it reached the protection of Columbia. To save Fleet VII, Horsip might have to leave the Columbian system. Ganfre could then turn and attack Horsip.
Watching alertly, Horsip could see that, without Hunter’s deception fleet, the position was clear enough. Ganfre still held the advantage, and obviously intended to use it. Already the dictators’ fleet was swinging around to get between Horsip and the reinforcing fleet—if it was a reinforcing fleet, and not another of Hunter’s phantoms.
Horsip, studying Ganfre’s movements, and the continuing approach of Fleet VII, cleared his throat, and turned to his communications officer. “Signal Fleet VII: ‘Enemy force outnumbers our present combined fleet strength. Stand off until you see a chance to join us.’ “