Sittas stroked his chin thoughtfully. “They will still be revealing themselves to you. What’s to stop you from having them arrested after the conference?”
“My word,” Vorgens replied, “and your trust in me.”
“You are putting it up to me to bring the rebel leaders to your conference table,” the old man mused.
“You’re the one man on this planet that both sides can trust.”
“That is very flattering.”
“And very true.”
Sittas shrugged. “I suppose you have the right idea. We can lose nothing by trying.”
“Good!” Vorgens grinned broadly. “You have the Mobile Force’s communications equipment at your disposal.”
“Yes, using the tri-di would be faster than contacting each man in person. If they are not afraid to appear on tri-di and run the risk of having you Terrans trace their whereabouts.”
Vorgens shook his head. “They have to take some risks. Peace isn’t built on flowers and handshakes alone.”
It took four days to arrange the conference. Four days in which the Mobile Force, spread across the countryside like a moving cloud of giant insects, covered more than three hundred miles and fought six skirmishes with Komani attackers.
One of the clashes was fairly serious. A full battalion of Komani swooped down on a temporarily disabled light cruiser and two repair vans, just as dawn was breaking. The cruiser and her escorts were in the rear of the Terran formation, separated from the rest of the Mobile Force by a broad, swift-running river with thick woods on the far bank. The Komani reasoned that they could verwhelm the stragglers before any other Terran vehicles could get back to help.