"Atrocities?" Shearer turned his head aside quizzically. "Do you know what he's talking about, Sergeant?"
"I've no idea, sir."
"Did you see anything?"
"Didn't see a thing, sir."
"Why do you think this man is holding his stomach?"
"Probably indigestion, sir."
As Sverenssen was hustled away to join his staff, Shearer turned to Clifford Benson. "I'm pulling my men out right away, apart from ten that I'll leave as guards for the house. I guess it's ready for you to take over."
"You did a fine job, Colonel," Benson acknowledged. He turned to the others. "Well, time's precious. Let's get on with it."
They stood aside while Verikoff led the way into the passage toward the office wing, and followed a few paces behind. At the end of the passage he came to a large, solid-looking, wooden door. "I am not sure how far jevex's visual field extends," he called to them. "It would be better if you kept well back." The others fell back into a small dense huddle with Hunt, Sobroskin, Lyn, Benson, and Pacey together at the front. "I need a minute to compose myself," Verikoff told them. They waited while he brushed a few specks of soot from his clothes, smoothed his hair, and wiped his face with a handkerchief. "Do I look as if all is normal?" he asked them.
"Fine," Hunt called back.
Verikoff nodded, turned to face the door, and unlocked it. Then he drew a deep breath, grasped the handle, and pushed the door open. The others caught a glimpse of elaborate instrumentation panels and banks of gleaming equipment, and then Verikoff stepped inside.
The strain on the Command Deck of the
Shapieron
had been hovering around breaking point for days. Eesyan was standing in the center of the floor gazing up at the main display screen, where an enormous web of interconnected shapes and boxes annotated with symbols showed the road map into jevex that zorac had laboriously pieced together from statistical analyses and pattern correlations of the responses it had obtained to its probe signals. But zorac was not getting through to the nucleus of the system, which it would have to penetrate if it was going to disrupt jevex's h-jamming capability. Its attempts had been repeatedly detected by jevex's constantly running self-checking routines and thwarted by automatically initiated correction procedures. The big problem now was trying to decide how much longer they could allow zorac to try before the tables of fault-diagnostic data accumulating inside jevex alerted its supervisory functions that something very abnormal was happening. Opinions were more or less evenly divided between Eesyan's scientists from Thurien, who already wanted to call the whole thing off, and Garuth and his crew, who seemed willing to risk almost anything to pursue what was beginning to look, the more Eesyan saw of it, like some kind of death wish.
"Probe Three's function directive has been queried for the third time," one of the scientists announced from a nearby station. "Header response analysis indicates we've triggered a veto override again." He looked across at Eesyan and shook his head. "It's too dangerous. We'll have to suspend probing on this channel and resume regular traffic only."
"Activity pattern correlates with a new set of executive diagnostic indexes," another scientist called. "We've initiated a high-level malfunction check."
"We have to shut down on Three," another, standing by Eesyan, pleaded. "We're too exposed as it is."
Eesyan stared grimly up at the main screen as a set of mnemonics unrolled down one side to confirm the warning.
"What's your verdict, zorac?" he asked.
"I've reduced interrogation priority, but the fault flags are still set. It's tight, but it's the nearest we've come so far. I can try it one more time and risk it, or back off and let the chance go. It's up to you."
Eesyan glanced across to where Garuth was watching tensely with Monchar and Shilohin. Garuth clamped his mouth tight and gave an almost imperceptible nod. Eesyan drew a long breath. "Give it a try, zorac," he instructed. A hush fell across the Command Deck, and all eyes turned upward toward the large screen.
In the next second or two a billion bits of information flew back and forth between zorac and a Jevlenese communications relay hanging distantly in space. Then, suddenly, a new set of boxes appeared in the array. The symbols inside them were etched against bright red backgrounds that flashed rapidly. One of the scientists groaned in dismay.
"
Alarm condition,
" zorac reported. "General supervisor alert triggered. I think we just blew it." It meant that jevex knew they were there.
Eesyan looked down at the floor. There was nothing to say. Garuth was shaking his head dazedly in mute protest as if refusing to accept that this could be happening. Shilohin moved a step nearer and rested a hand on his shoulder. "You tried," she said quietly. "You had to try. It was the only chance."
Garuth was staring around him as if he had just awakened from a dream. "What was I thinking?" he whispered. "I had no right to do this;"
"It had to be done," Shilohin told him firmly.
"Two objects a hundred thousand miles out, coming this way fast," zorac reported. "Probably defensive weapons coming to check out this area." It was serious. The screen hiding the
Shapieron
would never stand up to probing at close range.
"How long before we register on their instruments?" Eesyan asked hoarsely.
"A couple of minutes at most," zorac replied.
In the Jevlenese War Room, Imares Broghuilio stood gazing at a display showing the deployment of his task force in the vicinity of Thurien. Although the ships were in visar-controlled space, visar had not jammed their communications beams to Jevlen. No doubt the Thuriens had guessed that the force had standing orders to commence offensive action automatically if it was interfered with in any way. At least, they hadn't risked it, which was precisely the kind of reaction he had expected from a timid and overcautious race like the Ganymeans. Again his instincts had proved infallible. Exposed at last for what they were, the Thuriens had shown again that they had nothing with which to oppose the combination of nerve, strength, and willpower that he had forged. A deep sense of satisfaction and fulfillment swept through him with the realization that the issue was already as good as decided.
If a response had not been received by a certain time, the plan called for some selected uninhabited areas of Thurien's surface to be devastated as a demonstration that the ultimatum was serious. That time had now arrived, and Broghuilio's aides were waiting with a tense expectancy. "Report the current status of the fleet," he instructed curtly.
"No change," jevex replied. "Bombardment squadron standing by and awaiting orders. Secondary beams unlocked and primed for area saturation. Coordinates programmed for targets as selected."
Broghuilio gazed around his circle of generals to savor the moment for a while longer, then opened his mouth to issue the command. At that instant jevex spoke again. "I have to interrupt, Excellency. A channel has just opened from Earth, top priority. Your response is requested at once."
The smirk vanished from Broghuilio's face. "I have nothing to talk to Sverenssen about. He has his instructions. What does he want?"
"It isn't Sverenssen, Excellency. It's Verikoff."
Broghuilio's expression changed to an angry frown. "Verikoff? What business does he have there at this time? He should be handling the situation in Russia. What does he mean by ignoring protocols in this fashion?"
jevex seemed to hesitate for a moment. "He . . . says he has an ultimatum to deliver to you personally, Excellency."
Broghuilio looked as if he had suddenly been punched in the face. He stood absolutely motionless for a few seconds while an ominous tide of deep purple crept slowly upward behind his beard, starting at his collar and eventually finding its way to his scalp. The generals around him were exchanging shocked, uncomprehending looks. Broghuilio licked his lips, and his fist opened and closed by his sides. "Get him here," he growled. "And jevex, do
not
disconnect him until
I
say so."
"I regret that is impossible, Excellency," jevex replied. "Verikoff is not coupled neurally into the system. I have audio and visual contact only." A screen on one wall of the room came to life to show Verikoff standing in the center of Sverenssen's communications room, evidently having thought better of committing himself to the recliner that was partly visible behind him. Something had happened to him since he had entered the room. He was staring out from the screen with his arms folded solidly across his chest, and he looked calm and assured.
"Behold, the textbook warlord," Verikoff allowed his lip to curl contemptuously. "You should not have sent us to Earth, Broghuilio. It has been an honor and an education to meet
real
warriors. Believe my words—you would be even more of a fool than the fool you are to pit your rabble of amateurs against the Terrans. If you do, they will destroy you. That is my message."
Broghuilio's eyes widened. The veins at the sides of his neck began pulsating. "
You
are the traitor!" he spat. "Now we see the vermin exposing himself at last. What is this talk of an ultimatum?"
"Traitor? No." Verikoff remained unperturbed. "Merely a question of calculating the winning odds, which after all is your own dictum. You have set us up well to assume control of Earth very soon, and we thank you for it, but unfortunately for you that puts us on the winning side. Which do you think we'd rather be—caretakers of an outpost of your empire, or rulers of our own? The answer should not be difficult."
"What do you mean by
we
?" Broghuilio demanded. "How many of you are behind this?"
"All of us, of course. We manipulate all of Earth's major national governments and therefore have control over its strategic forces. And we have enjoyed the cooperation of the Thuriens for a long time now. How else do you think they've been able to talk to the Terrans without your knowing anything about it? They know that you, not the Terrans, are the real threat to the Galaxy, and we have persuaded them to allow us a free hand to deal with it. So we command a fully armed planet, backed by Thurien technology. It's all over, Broghuilio. All you have left to save now is your skin."
A short distance back from the open door through which Verikoff was speaking, Hunt turned an astounded face toward Lyn and leaned close to whisper in her ear. "I didn't think he had it in him. The guy deserves an Oscar." Beside them, Sobroskin, looking as if he didn't really believe it either, had lowered the automatic with which he had been covering Verikoff from the passageway.
Broghuilio was looking bewildered. "Strategic forces? What strategic forces? Earth doesn't have any strategic forces."
Then jevex interrupted again. "We have an alarm condition in Sector Five. Something unidentified is attempting to penetrate the net. Two destroyers have been detached from station and sent to investigate."
"Don't bother me with such things now," Broghuilio raged, waving his arms impatiently. "Delegate to Sector Control and report later." He looked back at Verikoff again. "Earth demilitarized years ago."
"Is that what you believe?" Verikoff leered openly. "You poor simpleton. You don't really imagine we'd allow Earth to disarm when we knew this day was coming, do you? That story was purely for your consumption. Ironically you almost changed it back into the truth. It has given the Thuriens a lot of amusement."
Broghuilio still couldn't make any sense out of it. "Earth has disarmed," he insisted. "Our surveillance . . . jevex has shown us—"
"jevex!" Verikoff scoffed. "visar has been pumping fairy tales into jevex for years." His expression became hard and threatening. "Listen to me, Broghuilio, for I am in no mood to repeat myself. This demonstration at Thurien has taken things too far. The Ganymeans have seen now what you represent, and they are not of a mind to hold us back by scruples. So this is our ultimatum to you: either you withdraw from Thurien now, and agree to place your entire military command under our jurisdiction unconditionally, or the Thuriens will transfer through to Jevlen a combined Terran force that will blow you to stardust—you, your whole planet, and that laughable aggregation of scrap that you call a computer network."
Somewhere deep inside jevex something hiccuped. A million tasks that had been running inside the system froze in the confusion as directives coming down from the highest operating levels of the nucleus redefined the whole structure of priority assignments to force an emergency analysis of the new data. And in the middle of it all, the routines that had been scanning for inquisitive probes through h-space faltered. It was only for a few seconds, but . . .
On Thurien, visar spoke suddenly to end a long vigil that had been dragging silently by for hours. "Something's happened! I've got a link to zorac!" Even as Caldwell was jumping to his feet, and Heller and Danchekker were looking up with startled faces on the other side of the room, streams of binary were pouring across the gulf to the
Shapieron
, light-years away, and visar had begun analyzing the patterns assembled by zorac.
"What's the situation?" Calazar asked tensely. "Is the ship all right? How far into jevex have they penetrated?"
"They've got problems," visar said after a short delay. "Give me a few more seconds. This is going to need some fast footwork."
On the Command Deck of the
Shapieron
, a familiar voice that had not been heard for several days spoke suddenly to break the silence that had fallen with despair. "Say, you're in a bit of a mess here. Sit tight. I'll handle this."
Eesyan's jaw dropped in disbelief. Garuth looked up speechlessly from where he had sunk down into a chair at one of the empty crew stations. Around them a score of other dazed Ganymeans had heard it too, but didn't believe it, either. "visar?" Eesyan whispered, as if half fearing an aural hallucination. "zorac, was that visar?"
"It's busy," zorac's voice answered. "Don't ask me what's happened, but yes it was. Something deactivated the self-checking functions, and I've switched off the jamming routine. We're through to Thurien."