Part 16 (1/2)

Then, too, this could be exciting and I'm b.l.o.o.d.y bored. bored.

”Computer?” Robinson demanded of the Earth-tech model sitting atop his desk.

”Yes, High Admiral.”

”Create a file. Label it...mmm...”Pax 2511”. Restrict it to my voice only, both additions and access.”

”Done, High Admiral.”

Robinson paused, organizing his thoughts.

”Computer, add to the file all that is known to us about the Terra Novan World League and the Tauran Union. In particular I want profiles of all the major players. Then I want you to find whatever is known about the Salafi Ikhwan. Get me everything available on the subjects of guerilla warfare and terrorism. Lastly, for now, I want an economic a.n.a.lysis of the Federated States of Columbia, Terra Nova. Emphasis is on vulnerabilities. After you are done, erase all traces of your search, except for what remains in the file, Pax 2511. Work.”

”Working, High Admiral.”

UEPF Spirit of Peace, 28 May, 2511 ”Mustafa hasn't the slightest idea of what he's about,” said Robinson aloud in the privacy of his quarters. His eyes had grown a bit tired from reading the material he had had collected and which was on display on the Novan-built viewsceen mounted on the wall. He looked away, resting them on a painting he had kept for himself out of the recently auctioned Vatican collection.

”He really thinks this G.o.d of his which does not and cannot exist will do all the heavy thinking and lifting. He really believes that if he and his followers will only sacrifice and fight, then everything else will work out by divine will. Do I really really want to entrust the future of my fleet, my planet and my cla.s.s to a lunatic like that? I think not,” the High Admiral scoffed. want to entrust the future of my fleet, my planet and my cla.s.s to a lunatic like that? I think not,” the High Admiral scoffed.

For over a month Robinson had been studying the problem. In that month he had come no nearer to a solution than he had been when he had last visited Atlantis Base. The FSC, with its three hundred million people, its industry and economy that dominated the planet, its matchless armed forces, was simply too tough to break under the limited attacks Mustafa had in mind. Add in that it was quite capable, albeit at a terrible cost, of swatting the Peace Fleet from s.p.a.ce and...

”Not a chance,” Robinson said to himself. ”And not a chance I will give him the nukes to make his attacks more effective. Simple a.n.a.lysis would tell the Feds where they had come from; they've already got plenty of material to compare them to from the remains of the two cities we leveled in their Great Global War. And they would would retaliate; there's no question about that. They couldn't then, with no way to loft a warhead into s.p.a.ce, but now they could and they would. retaliate; there's no question about that. They couldn't then, with no way to loft a warhead into s.p.a.ce, but now they could and they would.

”Tough problem.”

He stood and began to pace.

”Should I have the bio people transfer some form of disease to Mustafa? No...no, I don't think so. There are some things that even I I can't contemplate doing. Bio war is one of them.” can't contemplate doing. Bio war is one of them.”

Robinson turned his eyes back to his view screen and continued reading.

29 May, 2511 The conference room had been paneled in rare, iridescent Terra Novan silverwood by one of Robinson's predecessors. It lent the room a warmth that was sadly lacking in most of the s.h.i.+p's areas. The table was likewise from below, as were the chairs that now held some nine members of Robinson's staff.

There'd been nothing for it but to bring some of his staff in for some small parts. Not that Robinson had told them anything important or ever intended to; far from it. But there were questions he didn't have time to answer and which the computer was simply unable to bring the required creativity of thought to bear upon. He needed human help.

”First question,” Robinson began. ”What can we consider to be progressive forces and organizations on Terra Nova?”

”a.s.suming by 'progressive' you mean the kind of forces which brought peace to Earth and prominence to our ancestors,” answered his sociology officer, Lieutenant Commander Khan, a very white and blond atheist who happened to have one prominent and progressive ancestor from old Pakistan, ”then the answer is fairly simple. Progressive forces include the supranationals like the World League and the Tauran Union, the entertainment industry, the news industry, the humanitarian industry, the legal industry especially that part of it devoted to international law and those elements of the economy, like Oak Tree Computing, that are detached from any given nation state and benefit from the global economy the Terra Novans have developed in the last ten or twelve years.”

”Humanitarian industry industry?” queried Robinson.

”It's an industry like any other,” answered Khan, evenly. ”What they manufacture is guilt and good feelings. The good feelings they sell at a high premium to those who need to feel good about themselves. They're no different from a company that makes cold remedies, except they are dealing with the relief of guilty emotions rather than sniffles. That, and that those who manufacture cold remedies are not also in the business of making colds.”

”I'd always thought of those as existing to do good,” the High Admiral objected.

Khan, the realist, smiled. ”They manage to do pretty well well by doing good, Admiral. And it is highly questionable whether they do any real good, at least of the kinds they claim and probably even think they do. Do they feed the hungry? Surely. And they will keep feeding the hungry, as long as the hungry look pitiable enough to collect money for doing so. But the net result of feeding the hungry tends to be the destruction of local agriculture which ensures a continuing supply of the hungry, a continuing supply of poster children, and a continuing supply of donations to a.s.suage guilt. by doing good, Admiral. And it is highly questionable whether they do any real good, at least of the kinds they claim and probably even think they do. Do they feed the hungry? Surely. And they will keep feeding the hungry, as long as the hungry look pitiable enough to collect money for doing so. But the net result of feeding the hungry tends to be the destruction of local agriculture which ensures a continuing supply of the hungry, a continuing supply of poster children, and a continuing supply of donations to a.s.suage guilt.

”Then, too,” Khan continued, ”they can afford to pay for the best local housing wherever they go, and that drives the price of local housing beyond the reach of all but a very few locals. Do they educate people? Indeed they do, and thereby ensure that the most capable people get enough education to leave the place of their birth and go where the money and living are better. Alternatively, they will tend to hire highly educated people in these undeveloped h.e.l.lholes they inflict themselves upon and use them for highly skilled work...like driving around and translating for the humanitarian aid workers. Oh, yeah, that's that's value added.” value added.”

The fleet's Druidic chaplain interjected, ”I remind you, Ms. Khan, that it was precisely those kind of groups that helped our ancestors bring Earth to peace and stability at last.”

”The admiral asked me for a.n.a.lysis, Your Wisdom,” answered Khan, respectfully. Atheist or not one had to respect the power of Earth's official clergy of which the druids were a part. ”I make no moral judgments. What I have told him is is the effective operating method of the local international humanitarian aid community, as it was for our own planet's. They are a plague to whatever place they visit, but they are equally a boon to the cause of international progressivism.” the effective operating method of the local international humanitarian aid community, as it was for our own planet's. They are a plague to whatever place they visit, but they are equally a boon to the cause of international progressivism.”

”What Sosh has said is true, Admiral,” added the staff communications officer. ”But it could not be true unless the news media and entertainment industries of which she spoke were willing to accentuate the positive and cover up the negative.”

Khan nodded her head in agreement.

Robinson tapped his fingers against his face, thinking. ”How long,” he asked, ”before the Novans can achieve interstellar travel?”

Estimates ranged wildly from ”Fifty years” to ”Centuries.”

Engineering disagreed. ”Twenty years, Admiral. Possibly as few as fifteen.”

That was a shock. was a shock.

”Explain that estimate,” the High Admiral ordered.

”The state of their technology right now is about where Earth was in the early 21st century. But that's only in general. They're already ahead of where we were in some areas the Federated States of Columbia is, in any case because a), they know a lot more of what is possible than our ancestors did and b) the FSC has been fanatical about s.p.a.ce research ever since your predecessor nuked two of their cities.” century. But that's only in general. They're already ahead of where we were in some areas the Federated States of Columbia is, in any case because a), they know a lot more of what is possible than our ancestors did and b) the FSC has been fanatical about s.p.a.ce research ever since your predecessor nuked two of their cities.”

”That doesn't mean they will will though,” Ms. Khan objected. It really was a frightening thought, the barbarians of Terra Nova loose in s.p.a.ce. though,” Ms. Khan objected. It really was a frightening thought, the barbarians of Terra Nova loose in s.p.a.ce.

”No,” engineering agreed. ”But they could and that that is what the High Admiral asked.” is what the High Admiral asked.”

”Could we prevent them from doing so short of war?” Robinson asked.

”No.” Everyone agreed. ”No.”

Khan added, ”Though the kind of war might make a difference.”

Atlantis Base, Earth Year 14 June, 2511 They met in Robinson's ash.o.r.e quarters, a s.p.a.cious house set apart from all other buildings by a high wall and broad, green lawn. Lit naturally by tall, narrow windows, the apartment was furnished in the best of Earth and Novan styles, kept spotless by a crew of dimwitted proles. The tables were gleaming wood; the couches and chairs supple leather. Thick rugs covered the porcelain tiles of the floors and rare art hung on the walls.

”We cannot be directly involved, Mustafa. Understand that much from the beginning. We can guide you, help you, partially fund you and give you a certain amount of intelligence. But we will will not get directly involved under any circ.u.mstances.” not get directly involved under any circ.u.mstances.”

Barely, Mustafa restrained the urge to p.r.o.nounce UE's High Admiral a ”coward.” Then again, the Salafi doubted that the word would have meant much to the High Admiral. Mustafa was certain that the idea of cowardice had left the UE lexicon every bit as completely as had the concept of courage. Besides, coward or not, the man was an infidel, an atheist, and that was, in Mustafa's opinion, infinitely worse.

”Money?” Mustafa sneered. ”I have money. Intelligence? Allah will provide victory to us or not, as he wills, without your ”intelligence.” I am wasting my time here.”

”Not so fast, son of the desert.” Robinson was really thinking son of a b.i.t.c.h son of a b.i.t.c.h but that would have been impolitic to say. ”Our aid means more to you than you imagine.” but that would have been impolitic to say. ”Our aid means more to you than you imagine.”