Oberheim (Voices) Part 28

Sincerely,

Edgar James Stone President of the United Commonwealth.

General Hayes stood perfectly still for perhaps two minutes, holding the piece of paper in his tightly clench hands, looking at the blank portion at the top of it with unfocused eyes. The two lesser generals, knowing better, did not interrupt his mediations, but remained silently by the door. Calder knew his master well enough to read the signs of rejection, and still greater determination, on his face. Frank could only stare at the man he both admired and feared, wondering.

At length the Secretary stirred.

"Your incinerator, Michael." Calder handed him the tiny device, and Hayes vaporized the President's message. He rose.

"General Frank. Schedule a meeting of the Staff in ConRoom 16 for 2200 hours. I'll address all subcommanders by visual at 0600 tomorrow.

Request your communications officer to remain in his quarters until I send for him. The attack will go on as scheduled."

Hayes, his thought rebuked, was now going on instinct. And his instincts always told him to attack. The three dispersed, and the First Communications crew, with the exception of Janson, returned to their posts.

There are perhaps three basic ways that the human mind reacts when its perception of reality, colored by hopes and dreams, is suddenly, forcibly confronted. The first is the way adopted by those who acknowledge their own humanity. This is to take a step back, question perspective, yield to some more profound influence, or simply admit that there may be some aspect of the situation not immediately understood. In short, it is the realization that life, for good or ill, is not going to change for them, and that their dreams and ambitions must be based on reality, or they simply cannot last.

The second reaction, just as common, may be viewed as the first step toward irrational thinking. Those who fall into this category, rather than relinquis.h.i.+ng the illusion in question, cling the more fiercely to it, stubbornly blocking out all contradictory input, and, if necessary, delving into a world of pure fantasy.

The third reaction, by far the most dangerous, is centered around a belief that the more one's goals and ambitions are resisted, the truer and more indisputable the path taken, since clearly they are being resisted by evil. The Devil, and those who serve him, are to blame.

Therefore the harder the subsequent struggle, the more righteous the cause. Such is the road taken by the political or religious fanatic.

Hayes, in his more rational moods, fell into the second category. When directly challenged, as he was now, he fell into the third.

The man remained seated in his quarters, brooding. All his thought had been bent so strongly, all his efforts geared so unshakably toward the realization of a single goal---riding the tide of patriotic fervor, with the whole of the Commonwealth behind him, into a grand and decisive campaign against galactic communism---that Stone's rejection had hit him like a physical blow. Why had his destiny been denied him?

OR WAS IT A TRIAL OF FAITH?

And one more thing troubled him. He was still sane and n.o.ble enough (after a fas.h.i.+on) to see that it would indeed be wrong to usurp the duly-elected President, fool that he was, and try to seize power by a military coup. This, however, did not keep him from disregarding his current orders, which were clearly and dangerously wrong. Having been stripped of its pet fantasy, his mind now seized upon another.

HE WOULD DO IT ALL HIMSELF. With only the resources and undying loyalty of the Third Fleet, he would defeat Soviet s.p.a.ce alone, against orders---the greatest military feat of all time. Each disposition would have to be perfect, each soldier's skill and determination honed to a cutting edge of steel. AGAINST ALL ODDS! Or, at the very least, he would draw the Soviets into a full-scale war. . .and give his reluctant president no choice..... He got up and began to pace eagerly, shaking off age and fatigue.

YES, THAT'S IT. OF COURSE! HE THINKS HE'S MADE A CLEVER MOVE, CHEATED ME. WE'LL SEE HOW LONG THE SOVIETS REMAIN NEUTRAL WHEN I DEVASTATE THE COALITION FORCES, AND KNOCK OUT THE EAST GERMAN HOME PLANET. "MORE DEPENDS ON IT THAN YOUR EGO OR MINE," HE SAID TO ME. "TO VIEW THE MATTER HARSHLY. . .TREASON!" HE'LL 'CALL MY BLUFF', WILL HE? MY 'OBSESSION' WITH COMMUNISM. Hayes smashed a fist into his open hand.

"RELINQUISH ALL MILITARY t.i.tLES." "MAVERICK!." SO HELP ME G.o.d; IF THIS ACTION ISN'T ENOUGH TO CHANGE HIS MIND, I'LL DO IT. I'LL COME AFTER HIM! FOOL. BLIND FOOL.

At length he ceased his pacing and grew calmer. The meeting with General Staff was approaching, and he must decide what course to take with them:

The meeting would be held. He would address the sub-commanders as scheduled, as the mighty s.h.i.+p headed out toward the entrance of the star gate. Nothing had changed. Stone's actions had been a small annoyance, nothing more. He switched on the dictation machine, and began speaking rapidly and decisively.

Lt. Eric Muller had been in e-light warp for almost fifteen hours, barely outraced by the laser sounding-beam sent out ahead of him days before.

So far he had been lucky---he had not had to deviate course. He knew that once he did, leaving the path of the beam, he would have no warning at all before smas.h.i.+ng into an unrecorded meteor, or bit of s.p.a.ce debris. To come out of light-speed and fly by sight and instruments meant to expose himself to tracking, almost certain death while approaching enemy-controlled positions.

The small, blistering s.h.i.+p in which he flew had been designed with but a single purpose: to outrace tracking, come out of warp just long enough to aim the projectile, then split in two, the adjoining missile (hopefully) striking its target before the enemy could react, while the escape-s.h.i.+p ran for cover.

It was a desperate scheme, this squadron of forty missile-s.h.i.+ps; but it remained theoretically possible, and therefore must be tried. The Coalition powers had not been idle since the attack on Athena, and the high command of the Provinces of Democratic (East) Germany, suspecting their inner planets to be a likely next target, were determined to show Hayes what they were made of---that it would be no easy fight---and that the Dreadnought was not impregnable.

Constant tension and near maniacal alertness had begun to take its toll on the young pilot, chosen, along with the others, because of his lightning reflexes and exceptional endurance. Two seconds of neglect were all that was needed to end his life. If for that brief period he did not watch the signal monitor and react instantaneously to its warning---the possible complexities of which were too vast even for an una.s.sisted computer to judge---all was lost. He could not know it, since the speed at which he traveled made communication impossible, but eight of his comrades had already been killed, or forced to break off because of mechanical failure.

He reached back to ma.s.sage his aching neck. Scarcely a moment had pa.s.sed before he heard the warning tone---meteor particles directly ahead. With the thought control computer he veered left and down, then back again to the right. His reactions had been swift and correct, and he was able to readjust quickly and continue on toward the target.

But the beam was lost, so that now he flew blind. And after a time the real fear began to set in. Roughly two hours later his craft spun out of control and exploded, after striking a meteor-pellet six inches long. SubCaptain Schmidt was lost a few minutes after that, when he outraced his beam and tried to decelerate too quickly.

Twenty-four hours into the mission, only seven of the original forty remained, still at least eight hours away from their estimated time of intercept.

IV

Hayes was wakened at 0400. He felt upon first consciousness, as he often did after a short sleep, a vague and powerful sense of uneasiness, like a man walking steeply uphill, with death drawing nearer behind him. He sat bolt upright, his jaw set and eyes squinting fire, and slowly the feeling pa.s.sed. He got out of bed, told the yeoman to send Calder to him at 0420, and stalked into the bathroom.

Finis.h.i.+ng his toilet he reentered the bedroom and immediately began his morning isometrics, running through his mind as he did so the business of the day, and recalling with disciplined satisfaction his performance of the night before. His words to the meeting of Staff:

"My fellow officers of the intrepid Third Fleet, your Commander-in-Chief asks much of you. As President, he understands as I do the urgent necessity of our great endeavor, and along with the Senate, stands squarely behind us. But his political enemies, the weak-hearted opposition who hold the majority in Congress, needing to make themselves feel important, have delayed a vote on the formal Declaration of War. They have attempted to sabotage the mechanisms of just vigilance and freedom. They SAY they need more proof." As he said this, and various officers scowled, he had looked over at Frank and nodded gravely, as if this was what had upset him in the President's reply.

"Fortunately, Edgar Stone is not the kind of man to let ignorance and cowardice stand in his way. They have said they need more proof, of the ruthless barbarity of the Coalition leaders against their own people, as well as the armed strength of our great nation---and he has a.s.signed US to give it to them." Expressions of satisfaction and approval. "To us then falls the task of demonstrating the absolute superiority of the United Commonwealth of America, and the prowess of its men at arms. He knows that in this, we shall not fail him."

As he recalled this speech Hayes felt only one regret. In referring to Stone's (supposed) vote of confidence in the Third Fleet, and simultaneously expressing his own desires and expectations of it, he had unwittingly imparted into their image of the President a courage and forthrightness he did not possess, and which might later have to be altered, should matters force a showdown and the need arise to challenge his authority.

But this could not be helped, and already he felt his subconscious beginning to turn the necessary phrases of shock and disbelief at Stone's treachery and sudden reversal. He dressed briskly, and had only just begun to pace when Calder appeared at the portal. He turned to him at once.

"Have communications officer Janson report to me in SubCon 20 in half an hour, then tell the yeoman to have my breakfast sent there." His expression changed slightly as he looked into the unquestioning face of his loyal subaltern. "... Do you want to know what he really said?"

Calder stepped beyond the portal and turned the small handle that security-sealed the room, showing by this mute gesture that it did not matter to him, he would serve his General as he had always done, but that if Hayes wished to tell him he would be honored to listen. He was the one man who could have a softening effect on his master, though he would have been shocked to learn it. Hayes turned to face the wall.

"He tried to cut me off, Michael." He glanced over at him briefly, the smallest touch of melancholy, then back to the wall. "He said that my 'obsession' with the communist threat was based on pure fabrication, the result of an unbalance mind." For as he spoke, he truly believed that this was what Stone had done. "He said that to view the matter harshly, I had committed treason..... He ordered me to return home with my tail between my legs and maybe, MAYBE he would forgive me."

Without turning he knew that Calder's face had a.s.sumed its characteristic frown of fierce devotion, the one that acknowledged tough measures were at hand, not wanted, but forced upon them by those enemies, unfathomable in their ignorance and baseness, who challenged and sought to sabotage his master's clear vision and irreproachable aims.

"He can't do that, sir." Hayes turned, rekindled, as always, by this soldier's undying spirit.

"No, he can't. Though it does my heart good to hear it." Their eyes met. "But you needed to know that things could get a little rough.

The President of the United Commonwealth himself is no longer above suspicion."

"You know that I would do anything," stammered Calder. "Follow you anywhere."

"Yes, yes! That's the spirit we need to impart! It's entirely on our shoulders now. The Third Fleet must take up the sword alone." His temper had been quite restored. "But." He raised a stern finger.

"One thing at a time, and not missing a single detail. That's how we've got to do it."