The Watchmen By Ben Bova

Vorgens sucked in his breath. “Sir, I cannot stand by and—”

“Just get out of my sight, mister, and stay out of my way.”

Aikens sat down again and turned his attention to the pile of reports on his desk.

“Brigadier Aikens, you don’t realize what you’re—”

“Dismissed.”

“But, sir—”

“Dismissed!”

Vorgens left the brigadier’s office and walked blindly down the narrow passageway to the outer hatch. He climbed down to the ground and stood for a moment next to the mammoth dreadnaught, looking at the maze of vehicles spread across the vaUey floor, waiting for the dawn. Most of the men were sleeping, he knew—or trying to.

Can Aikens be right? Vorgens wondered. What makes me so certain that I’m not wrong? He was right about Okatar Kong’s reaction to the truce offer. It could be a trap. Sittas lying? Altai working for the Komani? Leading me and the whole Mobile Force into a slaughter? And yet… I went across those hills tomg/ri. The Komani ready have pulled most of their men away. Can that be part of the trap? Whose judgment can I trust, my own, or Aikens’?

He began to walk away from the dreadnaught, looking for the cruiser in which he had been quartered. As he walked, he continued to question himself.

How long has Aikens been on Shinar?

A few weeks.

Has he met any of the native rebel leaders?

No.

Has he seen any of the Komani?

Only in battle.

What does he know about the situation on Shinar?

Only what he tells himself.

Then why was he right about Okatar’s refusal of the truce?

Vorgens stopped for a moment and puzzled over that one. He knew what Okatar would do, the Watchman realized suddenly, because that is exactly what Aikens himself would have done if he had been in Okatar’s place.

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