Part 3 (1/2)
They sipped the bourbon.
”My G.o.d, Rafe!” Wellington-Humphreys gasped, ”it goes down like water and burns like fire!” She took another sip. ”Ohhhh! Off with the shoes, my toes are on fire!”
”It really is d.a.m.ned good stuff!” Pieters whispered, holding his gla.s.s up to the light, admiring the whiskey. ”I can see how Jenks Moody might've overindulged last night.”
”Rafe, you've dealt with these people before, what are they really like?”
”Well, I've had contact with the 'Cob'uns' as the people from Hobcaw like to call themselves. A long time ago. That was during one of the Silvasian wars, I can't remember which, can't keep them straight anymore. I was a second lieutenant in the infantry in those days, yes,” he smiled as Wellington-Humphreys raised her eyebrows, ”the old economist, ah, the distinguished distinguished old economist, who now stands so humbly before you, was a G.o.dd.a.m.ned ground-pounding soldier once.” The Old Snort was having its effect on Pieters. Eagerly he poured himself another generous dollop. ”We had a regiment of Cob'uns with our brigade and I got to know some of their officers and NCOs pretty well. They were a hospitable and friendly bunch of guys. In many ways they were a lot like that b.u.m in the story Stutz told us, they liked to get drunk, talked all the time about things they'd hunt when they got home, kept a sloppy bivouac. But, Julie, in a fight you couldn't ask for better men to be at your side! d.a.m.n, those boys could shoot and maneuver! If we have to go to war with the Hobcaws it won't be a pushover, take it from me. I suspect some of the other worlds in that Coalition aren't far behind the Cob'uns in their fighting spirit, especially the Embatans and the Wandos.” old economist, who now stands so humbly before you, was a G.o.dd.a.m.ned ground-pounding soldier once.” The Old Snort was having its effect on Pieters. Eagerly he poured himself another generous dollop. ”We had a regiment of Cob'uns with our brigade and I got to know some of their officers and NCOs pretty well. They were a hospitable and friendly bunch of guys. In many ways they were a lot like that b.u.m in the story Stutz told us, they liked to get drunk, talked all the time about things they'd hunt when they got home, kept a sloppy bivouac. But, Julie, in a fight you couldn't ask for better men to be at your side! d.a.m.n, those boys could shoot and maneuver! If we have to go to war with the Hobcaws it won't be a pushover, take it from me. I suspect some of the other worlds in that Coalition aren't far behind the Cob'uns in their fighting spirit, especially the Embatans and the Wandos.”
Wellington-Humphreys held out her gla.s.s for a refill. ”I hope we're sober enough to make the meeting tomorrow.”
”If we keep this up we sure won't be,” Pieters laughed, giving her another two fingers of the bourbon. He refilled his own gla.s.s but capped the bottle tightly and then set it aside.
”It's going to be war, Rafe, I can see that now. They will secede and we cannot let them do that. How bad will it be?”
Pieters did not answer at once but swirled the whiskey in his gla.s.s and sipped before saying, ”They had a saying they liked to quote when in their cups. I always thought it was hyperbole for my benefit as an outsider. It went something like, 'Turn peace away, for honor perishes with peace.' What happened at Fort Seymour was the first fatal move, Julie, and we shall never call it back. If we have war with those people it is going to be bad, Julie, very bad, I am afraid.”
But Rafe Pieters had no idea how bad it would really be and he was not half as afraid as he should have been.
CHAPTER FIVE.
Tommy Lyons lay dying.
”General, the tests are conclusive. Your son does not have pneumonia or any other form of upper-respiratory infection. It's a particularly virulent form of psitticoid tuberculosis that is very deadly in younger children if not treated promptly. And I have to tell you, it has not been.”
”Bu-but the other doctors a.s.sured us he . . .” General Davis Lyons gestured helplessly at the tiny form on the bed, its chest heaving spasmodically.
The boy's mother, Varina, sat beside him, mopping the perspiration from the child's forehead, occasionally daubing at the blood the intermittent bouts of coughing brought up from his tortured lungs. She glanced imploringly at the doctor. ”Can't you do anything?” she asked.
Dr. Ezekiel Vance, Ravenette's foremost specialist in communicable diseases, shook his head sadly. ”We could, if we could get the proper medication. This form of TB is very rare in this quadrant of Human s.p.a.ce but it is endemic on other worlds. I've ordered a stasis unit from Mylex. Once it gets here we could stabilize Tommy and keep him alive until I can find the medicine I need. You know how backward we are in medical science, compared to other worlds in the Confederation. And we don't keep supplies of the medicine required to combat this disease on hand although there is a drug that can cure it, but-” he shrugged.
”But what?” Varina Lyons asked.
Ezekie Vance was a small, stoop-shouldered man, and the anxiety of the past hours was clearly etched on his face. As he spoke he twisted the hairs on his long white mustaches, an involuntary response to the frustration he felt at his helplessness in the face of the child's fading life. ”But the embargo,” he replied, looking at the two, surprise on his face. ”Didn't you know that Merrick Pharmaceuticals's products are embargoed, and they are the only source for the drug that can fight this disease?”
”The embargo? That does not apply to the importation of medicines and food and nonmilitary goods, Doctor!” General Lyons replied. Little Tommy began to cough again and for agonizing moments the adults' attention was directed toward the child. White-hot anger surged through the general. G.o.dd.a.m.n the embargo! G.o.dd.a.m.n the Confederation for imposing it! G.o.dd.a.m.n the secessionists!
”Yes, General, the embargo. Merrick products are embargoed because some of them can also be applied to the manufacture of mind-altering drugs that have specific military applications. On Mylex for many decades there was a thriving industry in bootlegged prescription drugs. They used third parties to buy small quant.i.ties from companies like Merrick then replicated the ingredients and resold the stuff at vastly reduced prices. Often the stuff they sell is not as effective as the real drugs and people have died using the cut-rate imitations. So, when the Confederation put the embargo in place, Merrick volunteered to apply it to all their products. That's why Tommy can't get the medicine he needs to save him.”
General Lyons, commander of Ravenette's military forces, a decorated veteran of many campaigns, had never felt such helpless anger and despair. Only days before, Tommy had been a healthy, active boy of eight, the light of the Lyons's life, the one bright spot the general could always count on to revive his spirits and restore his fading faith in the future of his world. And now-this? ”Maybe somebody on Mylex has some of the stuff Tommy needs,” he suggested, ”it'd be better than nothing, doctor.”
”Maybe. I'm trying to locate some of this drug, believe me, General, I'm trying. If we can get a stasis unit in time-and mind you, that might not work in this case because Tommy's condition is so far advanced-if I can find someone in our Coalition who has a supply of the drug, or contacts within the Confederation who can supply it, yes, I might be able to save your son. But time isn't on our side, sir. General, one more thing. We've got to find out how Tommy was exposed to the virus that causes this form of TB. The public health epidemiologists must be advised. They'll want to know what Tommy's been exposed to these last weeks. If this is the first case of an outbreak of the disease, we could be in for a lot of trouble.”
”Then, G.o.dd.a.m.nit, let's get some specialists in from those worlds who can deal with this! I'll make a naval vessel available immediately! She can depart in-”
Almost in tears, Dr. Vance interrupted him. ”General we can't! We cannot do that. Since the Ordinance of Secession was issued, the Confederation has also banned all travel to our sector of Human s.p.a.ce. I have already contacted my colleagues on Manazanares, to no avail. They are as devastated as I am, but any violation of the ban will be met with drastic sanctions. We're on our own, General. Let us hope that we can save Tommy and his case is an isolated one-or we could lose not only him but a whole generation of our children.”
”And a whole generation of our young men and women,” the bitterness in the general's voice was almost palpable, ”if this secession movement leads to war with the Confederation. Their G.o.dd.a.m.ned Ordinance of Secession! The G.o.dd.a.m.ned Confederation!” General Lyons had never before put much credence in the commonly held belief of his fellow Ravenites that the Confederation despised them as second-cla.s.s citizens. But to have imposed the sanctions on their world was inhumane, worse than what the soldiers did at Fort Seymour when they fired on the demonstrators.
Dr. Vance said nothing, but as a physician he also deeply regretted the Coalition Council's decision to issue the Ordinance because it would mean the loss of many lives he was dedicated to saving. But he kept that to himself because speaking against the war fever that had infected the people of Ravenette and their allies could be decidedly unhealthy. General Lyons, a respected hero, could be a bit more outspoken, and Dr. Vance knew he was dead-set against secession, but the doctor was discreet enough not to express his own opinion in the presence of anyone else, not even Varina Lyons.
Lyons took a deep breath and tried to get control of himself. ”Doctor, will you remain here with Tommy and Varina? I've been called before the Coalition Council. Those G.o.dd.a.m.ned politicians are preparing for war.”
”Yes, General. As soon as my contacts find what I need, I'll have it rushed here, and I'll keep you informed of our progress,” he extended his hand and they shook.
”Thanks for everything, Doctor, I know you have a lot of other patients who need your help.”
”I've been alerted for call-up, General. I'm in the reserves, you know. I may soon have the honor of serving with you in uniform.”
”I'm the one who'd be honored, but let's hope it never comes to that. Thanks again for everything you're doing for us.”
Vance let a wry smile cross his face, ”General, we're so backward here on Ravenette that we doctors still think we're obligated to make house calls like this.”
General Lyons's Plans and Operations officer, Admiral Porter de Gauss, had been sitting impatiently in a staff car outside the general's home for over an hour, glancing repeatedly at his chronometer. The Council would have already started its deliberations and they weren't even on their way yet! He leaned back in his seat. Well, if his son were seriously ill, he might be late for a meeting too. But-dammit!- this was an important meeting! War was in the air, you could almost taste it! War would mean a command. Maybe he could get out of the headquarters and back into the fleet again!
General Lyons slid into the seat next to him. ”Sorry to keep you waiting, Porter. Driver, take us to the Council hall.” He put Tommy's sickroom behind him now, confined it to a remote corner of his mind.
”General, they'll have already started,” de Gauss reminded him as he inserted a crystal into his reader. ”How's Tommy, sir?”
”No change, Porter. Let's see your crystal.” First up on the screen were several tables showing the readiness and strength of the military and naval forces available to the Coalition. Next, similar tables reflecting what forces the Confederation had at its disposal. There were many more pages of those figures than for the Coalition's forces. ”The Council will just have to wait. Hmm, how reliable are these figures on what the Confederation has?”
”They're the most reliable we have, General, accurate we believe to within one or two percent. Considering how readiness in any military unit fluctuates almost daily, it's impossible for us to know how many s.h.i.+ps of the line they have ready for combat at any given period, how many armored vehicles, how many troops and so on. But all the Confederation units listed there are deployed in those places and in the strengths shown there. Personnel and equipment are according to their respective tables of allowances.”
”Ummm. What I'm interested in is where they are, what they're doing there, and how quickly they can deploy to our sector if war is declared. I presume everything we have is ready?”
Admiral de Gauss nodded. ”Since we'd only be deploying defensively we can concentrate our entire resources wherever they're needed in this quadrant.”
”Good. Logistics? How are we on war materiel, production capabilities, spare parts, all the stuff we'll need if we engage in heavy combat?”
”It's all on the crystal, sir, but it'll take us a while to retool our industries for total war. We have planned to sustain material losses of up to ten percent in the initial phase of a war, personnel losses of about the same. Mobilization orders have been issued. Capture of the stores at Fort Seymour and the naval refueling base on Lannoy in the initial phase is crucial.”
Lyons scrolled through the pages dealing with the Confederation's manpower status. Pressed, the Confederation could call up overwhelming numbers, but Lyons knew all the secessionists needed to do was defeat the regular forces badly enough to convince the Confederation's politicians that the cost of keeping them in was not worth it. ”How'd you get these figures on the Confederation forces?” Lyons asked suddenly, grinning.
”Our intel boys have their sources, sir.”
”I see old Joe Porter is Chairman of the Combined Chiefs. Related to you in any way?”