Part 26 (2/2)
”The time is right.” Zatar put his gla.s.s down and pushed it away from him, the motion underscoring his modal intensity. ”Century after century the Kaim'eri have considered alternative structures for our government. If there's a change to be made, it must be made soon. Before our numbers are too few. Before we're so weakened that the Holding rises against us. Then it will be too late.”
”All agreed-many, many times over. But Zatar, there still has to be a man willing to bring the issue up for a vote, and enough men willing to sacrifice their own power to avert a catastrophe that might not come in their lifetime. You tell me they can be manipulated psychologically. I tell you that they're selfish-and in any battle on Braxi I have utter faith that the latter quality will triumph.”
”And I agree. Therefore they must believe that the restructuring is necessary for them personally. Now, not later.”
”There are still a lot of Braxana left,” Sechaveh said dryly. ”Even at an average loss of fifty percent per Plague season we have centuries to go before the Kaim'erate is depopulated.”
”Just so.” Zatar nodded his agreement. ”But I contend that there are other dangers facing us besides racial extinction.”
”Equally threatening?” Yiril asked sharply.
”In many ways more so. Now consider: a lone monarch such as Harkur has power that other men can never equal- and also more responsibility. That, I think, is the crucial point. So far we've been thinking of a Braxana figurehead position as something only favorable for the person gaining that position, something any man would want. But I contend there's a reverse side to the issue, and that's the part I mean to play upon.”
”The Braxana aren't known for cowardice in the face of responsibility.”
”But they're cowards when it comes to facing the truth- certain truths, at least.
Watch this.”
He reached over to the wall and flipped a panel open. ”How long since we've received a complete military report in session?” he asked, fitting a chip into the input slot.
The other two, startled, looked at each other. Now until that moment had they realized that the standard mapped presentation had recently been abandoned, and that the messengers delivering military news had been, if more dramatic, also more vague.
”Right.” He swung back into position. ”Watch this.”
The lighting in the room dimmed and a starmap took shape before them. Fully half the room was taken up by the three-dimensional display, with points of light proportionately placed in the darkness to represent stars and thin colored fog, red and blue respectively, to represent the territory held by Empire and Holding.
”The War Border five zhents ago.” He tapped the controls and the fog s.h.i.+fted slightly. ”Four.” Again. ”Two.” The red crept slowly forward like a living thing, engulfing the cooler s.p.a.ce before it. ”Last zhent.” He let that sink in for a moment, then: ”Our last report.”
The two were speechless.
”Yiril?”
”I can see why this wasn't presented to us,” he said quietly.
”Yes,” Sechaveh agreed, ”And I think a few messengers have much to answer for.”
”Granted.” Zatar regarded the starmap with a mixture of pride and affection.
”But for the moment, ignore that problem. Because we've got one much more worthy of our attention. Kaim'eri, we are losing the War.”
”Exchange of Border territory is old news,” Sechaveh protested.
”Very true. But look at this.” He walked into the map and indicated a peninsula of red extending well through the Border and approaching true Braxin s.p.a.ce.
”Kaim'eri, I ask you this: how will Braxi react when for the first time in ten thousand years our secure inner border is breached?”
Pensive silence; at last Yiril muttered, ”Very badly.”
”Let's be more specific. We've never lost a war. I contend we don't know how to lose a war.”
Sechaveh smiled. ”And it follows therefore that the Braxana have a great emotional stake in keeping that from happening during their rule.”
Viril was less convinced. ”The loss of a minor star or two-that is Birsule, isn't it? I thought so-is not in and of itself the loss of the Great War.”
”But they'll be afraid.”
Sechaveh nodded. ”Oh, it's a vile omen.”
”And it won't hurt that it happened without most of them knowing about it.”
”So you can add to it the feeling of being out of control. It's still not enough.”
”All right.” The map faded and the lights came on. ”What if the enemy were female?”
There was a pause as that information was digested. Sechaveh darkened noticeably, ominously, but said nothing. Yiril broke the silence. ”You mean that female Director of-”
”I don't. The lead s.h.i.+p among those due to break the Braxin border is commanded by a female, as is the whole move from start to finish. And there's more.” He paused, savoring their tension. ”She's a telepath. Fully Functional, to use the Empire's terminology. She's employed at least one psychic in the past, and may be planning to bring in even more. Kaim'eri, what we're facing here is a change in the very nature of the War! A change which will destroy us. I ask you, will that frighten them?”
”If it doesn't, I would question their sanity. But is it the truth, Zatar? Or convenient fabrication?”
”Unfortunately, it's the truth. I realize there have been psychics among the Azeans for centuries; why have they joined the fleet only now? I can't tell you that. But this I know: communication is the key to all transluminal warfare. We are limited only by the range of our instruments. What happens when the Azeans extend their range-to infinity? I say to you in all honesty, Kaim'eri, that this woman is the start of something which-if allowed to continue-will mean our defeat.”
”At the hands of a woman,” Sechaveh muttered.
”Combine the loss of all power with the threat of the shem'Ar. Draw them a picture of the Holding on its knees to a woman. Bowing down to a psychic-we, who have killed our own children to keep that mutation from ever dominating us!
If they don't fear that, Kaim'eri, then they aren't Braxana.”
”It's a good scare,” Yiril agreed. His voice was tense. ”And it would seem that this woman knows it.”
Pleased that he understood, Zatar nodded. ”That's the irony of it. In actual trade of territory across the length of the Border we're in a stronger position than before. Did either of you notice that in the map? Did either of you think to ask?
The concept of being defeated by a female-by a psychic female-is so disturbing that it overwhelms your reasoning. I believe she's counting on that. I believe she's fighting to break into Braxin s.p.a.ce for just that reason: because the move will dishearten us, giving her the psychological advantage. Her psychic abilities give her a unique advantage in that arena.” He paused; the tension in the room was palpable. ”She means to win the War, Kaim'eri. And given her nature, she could possibly do it.”
”Who is she?” Yiril asked quietly. ”I gather you know.”
”Her name is Anzha lyu Mitethe. Daughter of Darmel lyu Tukone and heir to his insight. Technically non-Azean; she had the misfortune to inherit a gene- grouping from some foreign ancestor, and the racial authorities raised enough of a fuss to have her denied citizens.h.i.+p. A living paradox-and a dangerous one. I propose getting rid of her. Now. While it's still possible.”
”Very good,” Sechaveh agreed. ”How?”
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