CHAPTER 33

The heavily hooded eyes of Hrang Master She-Rok contemplated the Pro Consul of the Alliance, Kvel Mavek of Kempec. His beaded skin flushed with the heat of the noon sun of Roma, and a slight sea breeze fluttered the light white tunic he wore. The pleasant nature of the day was lost on him, however, and in biting terms he described their situation as he saw it, “My sources have confirmed the desertion of the Seer’koh, Pro Consul. That knowledge is held very close, very close indeed. There are not a dozen beings in the galaxy, including ourselves, who know of it. Certainly the Seer’koh has taken great pains to ensure that the Golkos have gotten no whisper of it, but the rest of our confederates are not so careful or so caring. By my count at the end of this decurn Alexander will have sealed the agreements with all the former Alliance states but for the Kempec, the Hrang and the Golkos. Your stewardship has grown decidedly smaller, Pro Consul, and it is minus half its teeth!”

“The Seer’koh abandon the Alliance? I’d not have thought it possible!” Mavek sighed.

“They saw no profit in their further involvement,” She-Rok explained, “and it is very likely that Alexander was quite reasonable in his terms. To leave the Homeworlds inviolate with a sizeable defense force intact, demanding only access to other worlds and entry into a Federation. Those are not such bad terms when one considers the pounding the Quotterim took in a battle which took less than a eighth of a decurn!”

“But to give up sovereignty built up over the kicellia, that is a selling outright of our beings,” Mavek lamented. “Are we to become one great expanse of Terran culture? Will we be rife for wars of expansion, our citizens drafted as soldiers? What is to become of the galaxy we’ve built?”

“Apparently very little,” She-Rok told her. “Alexander is cunning. Why expend his forces when he can win through diplomacy? We gave him credit for his military prowess and his political maneuvering. We never realized that both avenues were actually one and the same strategy. Each served to divide us so that he could conquer us, one-by-one through combat or diplomacy. I believe it is termed multiplication of force, as he is accomplishing through both avenues what would take a much larger military force.”

“No one wants to be the next Quotterra,” Mavek admitted.

“Actually my Quotterim contacts report that they are quite pleased with their situation, all things considered,” She-Rok told her. “They take pride in the fact that they held the mighty Terrans at bay for so long. The Quotterim are not a warrior race, but they faced the Terrans with courage and resolve. Even the Chem ethernet reported their defense of their Homeworld in laudable terms. Their losses were lamentable, but not catastrophic, and the peace they earned is certainly favorable.”

“You speak as if you were jealous of the Quotterim, She-Rok. That is dangerous talk even on Roma. Do you not recall the treatment our Syraptose and Quotterim confederates received from the Golkos? Swift execution is a perfect reason to hold my opinions to myself. I advise you to do the same, my friend.”

She-Rok’s smile showed his teeth, “You underestimate my caution, Pro Consul,” he informed her. “We Hrang are not wholly inept at espionage or covert activities, even considering our defeat at the hands of Alexander. In effect our war was lost when our operatives were discovered, though we continued to forge ahead for a time. Do you remember when you advised me to forego assassinating Alexander, largely on the conjecture of you Mystics? I ignored your advice then, but I am no longer ignoring it. I have accepted it. There is no longer an acceptable hope of success in the exercise of that option, and indeed things have changed so radically since that time that I have no wish for the event to occur.”

“Isn’t it too late for a change of heart? After all two attempts have been made, and a third is forthcoming. The wheel is set in motion and nothing we can do can halt it now. The Terrans, by your own last report, showed no desire to terminate the operation. What has caused you to change your mind?”

“The reality of the situation,” She-Rok said. “You see, my friend, Alexander knows all about the attempts, their authors and their supporters. You and I consider this devastating news from our own position and that of our worlds, but for some reason Alexander does not. He knows all about the involvement of the Hrang and Kempec in the assassination plots, and all about the Golkos interrogations and executions. The former he apparently considers frivolous, the latter criminal. Alexander needs a scapegoat for this war even as we do. The Golkos are ready and willing to fulfill that role. It suits their lack of flexibility and foresight.”

Mavek glanced about her wildly, and would have stopped the Hrang if she could. He only laughed and said, “Is it not interesting that we should fear the Golkos now more than Alexander?”

“Is what you are saying true? How could Alexander come by such information?” Mavek stuttered, obviously upset. “That data was not made available to our governments, and it was not known outside our Alliance Council! None of us involved would have leaked this information!”

“Oh, but we did, unwittingly, when we dealt with the Terran traitors. Alexander knows his people all too well, it seems. Apparently our Terran confederates were not so trusted by Alexander as we thought and they led Alexander’s operatives to our own. Alexander apprised himself of every detail through the confessions of our own people. They had no choice, of course. Pantrixnia can be a very persuasive place.”

Mavek halted at a rail overlooking the coast. The waves were crashing in fury into the moss laden rocks, sending violently beautiful shafts of water shooting for the sky. The spray was so close she could feel the cool mist upon her brow. The Kempec laid her hands on the marble of the rail and slumped over it, sick with the realization of this new calamity.

She-Rok cocked his head and sighed. There was a sharpness to his voice as it whistled through his teeth. He observed, with some impatience, “You have not yet fully comprehended what I’ve told you. Alexander knows all. This war is over for us. There is no longer any profit in our efforts. Indeed, our only purpose for continuation to this point was our involvement in the Golkos murders, and the assassination attempts. The Golkos shall pay for their own crimes. There is no more reason for prolonged involvement of our peoples in this war. My people await my report, and I expect Kempec will not move without yours. You know my mind. What is yours?”

Mavek took She-Rok’s eyes sternly. “You are persuasive, Master Hrang, but you could just as easily be testing my loyalty to the Alliance as working for the Hrang. Kvel Mavek is no traitor, and neither are her people!”

The Hrang simply smiled. “Very well, I should have expected that. It is as I said: we fear the retribution of the Golkos more than we do the Terrans. You have tipped your hand, however. I and my masters know where your loyalties are.” She-Rok reached inside his tunic and pulled out a tiny, alien device.

Kvel Mavek straightened suddenly, realizing her own mortality had caught up to her. Her placid features turned suddenly harsh, and she spat, fontSo She-Rok, from spy you’ve turned executioner! I didn’t think your people had it in you! Why not simply inform your masters the Golkos and let them do the work for you. They would quite probably enjoy it! Or is this your way of proving your loyalty? Come now She-Rok, we’ve been associates for some time now. Can’t you present me with the truth? Have I not earned that at least?”

She-Rok shook his head, saying, “Kvel Mavek, the present circumstances have grown far beyond you, or me for that matter. It is over, my friend. I am sorry that it had to be this way. In my own way I wished that you could have trusted me, but it is understandable that it was not possible.”

She-Rok pressed the contact.

Mavek stiffened for the shock of the weapon, but the only thing that happened was a slight humming that grew in her ears. When she opened her eyes there was a small hologram floated above She-Rok’s hand. The hologram was of none other than Alexander.

“Good Afternoon, Pro Consul,” he said gravely. “We have a great deal to talk about, specifically the future relationship of our two peoples. It is a relationship which means more to me than territory or badges, and it is a relationship which will, in the future, be strong and amicable. Why then, if we assume that such is to be, should we concede to years of war and ill intentions? We have a chance, here and now, to do away with centuries of mistrust. The first step must be taken by you, however, as only you can decide which path your people shall take.”

Mavek’s eyes rose to those of She-Rok, and she saw that the reptilian being understood her dilemma. “Just listen to him,” he told her, “after all, it is the Kempec who are renowned for their diplomacy.”

#

Grand Admiral Khandar was in the middle of the thirty-seventh iteration of the computer’s holographic attack programs when an encrypted ethernet message disturbed him. It was of the highest code, meant for his eyes only. With ill disguised temper Khandar ceased his exercise and activated the security field in his quarters, locking into the net. The high featured visage of Karim Shekar appeared. Shekar was the Golkos political representative to the Alliance. Khandar had known her for years and thought her intelligent and capable as politicians went. At the first he recognized the import of the message. There was no humor in her Golkos features, and certainly none of the confidence his latest reports should have given her.

“Grand Admiral, we are betrayed,” she said stiffly. There were more words, but Khandar heard no more of them, he didn’t need to; the first sentence was enough explanation. Instinctively he knew what had occurred, even as he feared it would. As Shekar kept speaking, her voice growing more insistent, Khandar drifted in his own thoughts.

“I had hoped to be wrong about my own suspicions, but I face an equally clever adversary. Alexander would no more miss this opportunity than I would. He has cut to the heart of our weakness: the very impossibility of a truly united confederation. What is to be done, therefore, must be done by myself alone; as I always thought it would be.” Absently he cut the connection in the midst of Shekar’s monologue and called his guard. A troop of grim Golkos warriors met him outside his quarters. Without a word he strode down the battleship’s main gallery to the berths of the Seer’koh. Without announcement he punched his personal override code. The door slid open. A warm musty odor of incense poured out of the dim chambers carrying with it the enveloping sound of the jungle. Khandar did not need to enter the chambers to see the grasping but still forms of Admiral S’kreen and her staff clutched in the hold of their ancient rite of death.

For a moment events seemed to overcome even the resolution of the Grand Admiral, and his strength failed him. The loss of the blunt, tenacious Admiral S’kreen was a blow to his spirit as much as his arsenal and it affected the Golkos more than he could ever admit. In a barely to be heard whisper he said, “We have both been betrayed, S’kreen, but it is I who must continue this struggle whether it is the will of my people or not.”

The ring of the ship’s intercom broke his thoughts. Khandar answered only to hear that the Seer’koh and other non-Golkos contingents of the combined fleet were reversing course without explanation. Calls were coming into the flagship from throughout the Golkos fleet requesting to know the Grand Admiral’s orders. Khandar stared at the image of his Captain upon the tiny screen as if he failed to comprehend the question. When the Captain repeated his query Khandar suddenly snapped at him, “What should we do now that our forces are decimated even before the greatest battle of the kicellia? Attack, Captain, attack! That is the order! If nine hundred Golkos warships cannot defeat one fifth their number and subdue Terra then we do not deserve to return as skulkers to our Homeworld. The future of Golkos is now! It is in our hands, and we shall not meet our destiny with our backs turned; refusing battle on the enemy’s soil in order to defend the last of our own. Our battle plans are unchanged, Captain. We are merely free of the rotting flesh of the Alliance carcass. The war between the Alliance and Terra is over; and the war between the Golkos and Alexander has begun!” With a last burst of venom Khandar slammed his fist on the bulkhead, ending his connection and leaving a bloody smear on the metal.

He stomped back to his quarters, placing his guard without the entrance, and withdrew. Khandar remained in his quarters the remainder of the voyage, with only his computer simulations for company. He ran them again and again, trying new tactics and stratagems; attempting to calculate Alexander’s answering moves. The mercury hue of his eyes grew feverish with lack of sleep and isolation, but Khandar refused to leave or to take any messages from Golkos. In the first decurn the Homeworld hailed their fleet every tenth decurn. By the third decurn only two hails were received. Both went unanswered, and on the fourth decurn, only eight decurns from Terra, there was no hail at all. The only information received over the ethernet was a steady source of static emanating from the direction of Terra.