So however much he’d hated the thought of telling the Manties what was coming, it had scarcely been a surprise. And neither had their response.
By this time, he had a sizable file of messages from Sir Lyman Carmichael, Manticore’s ambassador to the Solarian League. The first dozen or so had maintained the diplomatic fiction that the League and the Star Empire weren’t yet actually at war and simply requested “clarification” of “unconfirmed news reports” of SLN fleet movements. Over the next week or so, though, as Kolokoltsov systematically ignored them, they’d segued from “requests” into forthright demands.
By now, Carmichael wasn’t even pretending Manticore didn’t know what was headed its way, and his communications had become increasingly blunt. Like the present one.
Kolokoltsov pressed the button, starting Carmichael in mid-sentence.
“—done our best to convince you and your colleagues to see reason, Mr. Permanent Senior Undersecretary,” the Manticoran said flatly, pointedly jettisoning the fiction that he was actually addressing Foreign Minister Roelas y Valiente. “You, however, have steadfastly ignored our warnings, rejected any attempt to reach a diplomatic resolution of the crisis provoked entirely by your military’s actions, and continued to prepare additional military operations against the Star Empire. We’ve endeavored through nonmilitary responses to indicate at least some of the potential costs of your actions. Obviously, the interruptions and damage your interstellar commerce is already suffering as a consequence of your intransigence have failed to get through to you. Now, with all the hyena-like ‘courage’ we’ve come to associate with Admiral Rajampet and his navy of gallant murderers, you’re clearly preparing to take advantage of the catastrophic damage inflicted upon the Old Star Kingdom in February.
“I’ve warned you repeatedly, on behalf of my Empress and my Government, of the extraordinary risks you run in pursuing such a policy. I warn you again, now, formally, that your obvious belief that our defenses have been crippled by what’s become known as the Yawata Strike is in error. If Fleet Admiral Filareta attacks the Manticore Binary System, he won’t simply be defeated as Admiral Crandall was in her attack on Spindle. He will be destroyed, and if the reported number of superdreadnoughts assigned to him is accurate, the loss of life among Solarian naval personnel will be unconscionable. We have no desire to kill hundreds of thousands of men and women whose only ‘crime’ will be obedience to the lawful orders of superiors too arrogant to recognize reality when they see it. It would appear, however, that you and your colleagues intend to leave us no choice.
“The Star Empire of Manticore therefore formally demands that you immediately dispatch to the Manticore Binary System via the Beowulf Terminus of the Junction an officer with sufficient authority to order Fleet Admiral Filareta to stand down. Assuming press reports of this operation’s timing are as accurate as I have reason to believe they are, there’s still time—if only barely—for those orders to reach Manticore before Fleet Admiral Filareta. We cannot order him to disregard orders he was given by lawful superiors; you can. If you decline to do so, the responsibility for whatever happens will lie squarely on your shoulders, and the Star Empire will be prepared to produce copies of my correspondence with you, in its entirety, in any future dispute over who bears responsibility for any consequences of your most recent unilateral aggression against a sovereign star nation. Moreover, under the circumstances, Her Majesty’s Government will not consider itself bound to maintain the confidentiality of our correspondence where the press is concerned.”
He paused, obviously giving that last sentence time to sink in, then continued in the same flat, uncompromising tone.
“It’s not yet too late to prevent a disaster of staggering dimensions. We will do all we can to minimize the catastrophic consequences of this confrontation. We invite you—we implore you, in the name of your own military personnel—to stop this now. If you decline this opportunity, if you refuse to act, be certain history will know exactly where to assign the blood guilt for the massacre which will most certainly ensue.”
I suppose that’s about as blunt as it comes, Kolokoltsov thought, and shook his head. Even now, he couldn’t quite believe anyone would address the Solarian League like that. Despite everything—despite Crandall’s devastating defeat, despite the Manties’ provocative closure of wormhole bridges and junctions—he still couldn’t quite believe it deep down inside.
Which is stupid of me. If I haven’t figured out anything else by now, I should at least have realized that whatever else Manties may be, they sure as hell aren’t impressed by the League’s reputation! Not anymore. It may be ultimately suicidal, given the difference in our resources and populations, but that doesn’t change the way they feel.
Of course, even if they were actually terrified, they’d be sending him exactly this sort of correspondence. Diplomatic threats cost nothing, and the temptation to run a bluff, to convince Kolokoltsov they could do to Filareta what they’d done to Crandall—especially if they really couldn’t—had to be overwhelming. If they could frighten him into calling Filareta off, they ran the table without having to fire a single missile. Which would also just happen to save them if they didn’t have any missiles left to fire.
Which is all well and good, but doesn’t change the fact that they may actually be able to do exactly what Carmichael’s threatening. And if they are, and if they really are prepared to hand all their notes to someone like O’Hanrahan…
His expression turned bleak as he contemplated just how damaging the publication of Carmichael’s correspondence could prove if things went to hell on Filareta. Yet it would be almost as damaging to take the ambassador’s “advice.” Sending the stand down orders Manticore was demanding could only be seen as a sign of weakness. It would damage the League’s prestige still further, and that could only worsen the consequences they all feared in the Verge and the Shell, which didn’t even consider the personal consequences to him and his colleagues. Or, for that matter, the potential constitutional train wreck when everyone began assigning blame and, in the process, revealed just how threadbare the pretense of representative government in the Solarian League truly was.
But if we don’t order him to stand down and it turns out remotely as badly as Carmichael’s warning us it will, we’ll have all of those consequences plus the deaths of thousands of our own spacers!
He considered calling yet another meeting to consider Carmichael’s latest message, but what could it accomplish? The others would argue, they’d worry, try to weasel around into a position which heaped the blame on everyone else, and in the end decide to do what he and, perhaps, MacArtney suggested. And the truth was, God help him, that he couldn’t see any choice but to continue backing Rajampet’s strategy.
It was simply too late to make any other decision.
Besides, everything I’ve been able to dig up on Filareta suggests he’s at least four or five times as smart as Crandall was. And he knows what happened at Spindle. If the Manties really are in a position to chew him up and spit him out, he’s smart enough to stand down on his own rather than get his fleet killed for nothing. That’d be bad enough, but a hell of a lot less bad than actually getting himself blown out of space!
And relying on Filareta to be smart enough also just happened to avoid the consequences of caving in to Carmichael’s demands without even trying to find out if they were a bluff.
* * *
“I’m afraid there’s been some misunderstanding, Admiral,” the dark-skinned man on Fleet Admiral Imogene Tsang’s display said. “The Beowulf government has clearly stated its opposition to your proposed movement. In fact, we’ve informed both Fleet Admiral Rajampet and Prime Minister Gyulay that the Planetary Board of Directors declines to authorize or permit the transit of Solarian naval vessels through this terminus at this time. If that information wasn’t transmitted to you prior to your departure for Beowulf, I’m officially informing you of it now.”
“I’m not privy to your system
government’s communications with the Prime Minister or the Admiralty, Director Caddell-Markham,” Tsang replied in a reasonably courteous but firm tone, “I do, however, have orders to transit this terminus with my task force to support Eleventh Fleet’s operations. Those orders aren’t discretionary, nor are they preconditioned on anyone’s permission or lack of permission. For myself, I’ll simply observe that my understanding of the Constitution is that federal authority is paramount in circumstances such as these. I’ll also concede that I may be mistaken in that understanding, and if I am, I sincerely apologize for anything which may seem to overstep my authority. Nonetheless, I remain bound by the orders I’ve received from my lawful superiors.”
“I suggest you consider that very carefully, Admiral.” Gabriel Caddell-Markham’s voice was considerably colder than Tsang’s had been. “The confrontation between the League and the Star Empire has the potential to become the most disastrous collision in human history. It’s the belief of the Beowulf government that the situation is being manipulated by forces inimical to both the League and the Star Empire and that we would be derelict in our duty—and our responsibility to the human race in general, not simply to the citizens of the Beowulf System—if we contributed to that disaster. We have no intention of doing so, and with all due deference to your understanding of the Constitution, it’s our opinion that the federal government grossly overstepped its power by issuing your orders. There’s been no declaration of war, and Article Five of the Constitution specifically denies the federal government authority to dictate to system governments in time of peace. As a consequence, the Beowulf System’s government is under no requirement to assist you in this movement, and our personnel and citizens will not assist you.
“The Beowulf Terminus is administered and controlled by the Beowulf Terminus Corporation, a civilian corporation based in Beowulf, but the Terminus’ actual sovereignty rests with Manticore, as its discoverer. Whether or not we would have the legal authority to allow you passage against Manticore’s will, even if we wished to, is a question complex enough to keep battalions of lawyers busy for decades. But the bottom line is that neither we nor the BTC have any desire to assist you in this madness to begin with and that virtually all the personnel manning the traffic control platforms on the terminus are Beowulfan citizens. Solarian citizens—civilians—over whom the Solarian military has no jurisdiction in time of peace. For that matter, the Solarian military has no jurisdiction over Solarian civilians even in time of war unless a legitimate declaration of martial law has first been issued. None has. Since that’s the case, the Beowulf System Defense Force would be morally, legally, and constitutionally justified in protecting our citizens against illegal coercion by whatever means may be necessary. And in case I haven’t been sufficiently clear, ‘whatever means may be necessary’ does include the use of deadly force.”
“Mr. Director, are you actually threatening to fire on the Solarian League Navy?” Tsang demanded, brown eyes widening.
“I’m telling you as an official representative of the Beowulf Planetary Board of Directors that we will not assist you in making transit, that BTC’s astro control personnel will refuse your orders to do so, and that should you attempt to unlawfully coerce them into doing so, we will resist. If you persist despite that warning—if shots are fired and blood is spilled—it will be a consequence of the unconstitutional actions of the federal government, and Beowulf will not be responsible for the potential consequences for the League’s stability which will undoubtedly follow. I don’t know how I can be any clearer than that. And since I’ve been as clear as I know how to be, I see no point in continuing this conversation. Good day, Admiral.”
The display blanked, and Tsang sat looking at it for several seconds, grappling with the fact that Caddell-Markham had literally hung up on a senior flag officer of the Solarian Navy. As far as she knew, nothing like that had ever happened in the SLN’s entire previous seven and a half centuries.
Finally, she shook herself and looked up at the officer across the briefing room table. Admiral Pierre Takeuchi, Task Force 11.6’s chief of staff, looked just as astonished as she was (and, she thought, even more outraged) by Caddell-Markham’s peremptory departure.
“Are these people as crazy as those Manty lunatics?” Tsang demanded rhetorically. She shook her head. “Where the hell does a cabinet minister of any system government—and I don’t care if it is a frigging Core World government—come off talking to the federal government that way?!”
“I don’t know, but somebody clearly needs his ass kicked up between his ears, Ma’am!” Takeuchi replied harshly. “And, frankly, a part of me wishes his damn system-defense force really would try to stop us.”
Tsang grunted in agreement, but her brain was busy with the potential ramifications. And with that secret clause of her orders. She hadn’t liked it when she’d seen it, but she’d comforted herself that it was going to remain a moot point. Now it looked like it might not, and the potential consequences of the Beowulfers’ position appalled her.
Her task force consisted of just over a hundred superdreadnoughts, accompanied by two dozen supply ships and transports and screened by twenty-five cruisers and forty destroyers. That was a hell of a lot more tonnage than she could possibly fit through the Beowulf Terminus in a simultaneous transit, but the ops plan called for her to provide additional reinforcements for the main body of Eleventh Fleet after the Manties’ surrender. And it was also the next best thing to three times the total combat strength of the Beowulf System Defense Force’s thirty-six superdreadnoughts. If the Beowulfers were stupid enough to provoke a shooting incident, it would be a very short and—from their perspective—very ugly affair.
That’s probably what Crandall was thinking before Spindle, a corner of her brain suggested, but then she scowled.
Maybe so, she told that corner, but Crandall was going up against Manties, and whatever new designs the Manties may’ve come up with, we know what Beowulf has. Oh, they might have a couple of little wrinkles we don’t know about, but they sure as hell don’t have the Manties’ new damned designs! If they did, we’d know about it already.
“They’ve got to be bluffing, Ma’am,” Takeuchi said. “They can’t really want to get thousands of their people killed just to protect a bunch of neobarbs against their fellow Solarians!”
“You’re probably right,” Tsang agreed. “At the same time, let’s not let ourselves invest too much confidence in that theory.”
“Are you—Forgive me, Ma’am, but are you serious?” Takeuchi demanded, and she barked an unhappy laugh.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But this is Beowulf, Pierre. The rest of the League may see the Manties as neobarbs, but Beowulf’s right on the other side of their Junction. Beowulfers have been marrying Manties for centuries, and they do one hell of a lot of business with each other. That’s bound to shape how they see Manticore. Worse, they’re probably the only people in the explored galaxy who’re even more paranoid about Mesa than Manticore is! You know they’ve rejected Mesa’s version of Green Pines, and from what Caddell-Markham just said, their government officially buys this Manty fantasy about some kind of plot coming out of Mesa. So, yeah, I think it is possible—remotely possible—they might order their wallers to fire on us if we try to carry out our orders.”
“If you say so, Ma’am.” It was obvious from Takeuchi’s tone that he found it difficult to wrap his mind around the possibility that she might have a point. “If they do, though, what do we do?” he asked.
“Well,” she said, thinking about that secret clause yet again…and of the catastrophic consequences to the career of any flag officer who failed to carry out Fleet Admiral Rajampet Rajani’s orders at this juncture in the Solarian League Navy’s history, “given the disparity in combat power between the task force and the BSDF, there’s no way in hell they could actually stop us. They have to know that as well as we do. So if it looks like they’re genuinely contemplating forcible resistance, we
’ll give them their choices: stand down or be fired upon. And if they choose not to stand down, then we will fire on them.”
Chapter Fifteen
“You know,” Elizabeth Winton said conversationally, “just the other day I was saying to Willie, ‘Willie,’ I said, ‘we need to get some regularization into this business of visiting heads of state.’” She shook her head. “Somehow I suspect we’re still behind the curve on that.”
“No! You think?” Honor replied with a grin.
She and the Empress stood watching a sting ship-escorted shuttle drop towards the Mount Royal Palace pad, and her smile faded as she brought up her artificial left eye’s telescopic function and zoomed in on the shuttle’s boldly emblazoned Bible and crossed swords. It was the first time that blazonry had ever been seen outside the Yeltsin System.
“Fair’s fair,” she said after a moment, turning back to Elizabeth. “At least this head of state didn’t just turn up totally unannounced.”
“Oh, heavens, no! Why, we had an entire day’s notice!” The empress rolled her eyes, but then her tone turned more serious. “Actually, I really do wish all these high-powered visitors would give us at least a little more warning, if only for security reasons. I hate to think how Grayson would react if we let anything happen to Benjamin and his family, Honor!”
“I agree that would come under the heading of a really bad thing,” Honor acknowledged. “Still, he obviously thought it was important for him to get here in person as quickly as possible. He must’ve put this together completely on the fly—I hate to think about the Keys’ reaction to the very notion!—but even though he’s enough of a schoolboy to enjoy teasing his security people, he knows how hard their job is. He’s not going to run any unnecessary chances, especially with Katherine, Elaine, and three of the kids along. And let’s face it, landing directly at Mount Royal is about the most secure thing he could do. He knows you have to’ve already ramped up Palace Security, when you’ve already got Eloise Pritchart and her delegation as houseguests. And last but not least—”