The Human Division (25 page)

“The distinction between the two escapes me, General,” Hado said.

“I am well aware of that fact, Representative Hado,” Gau said. “Nevertheless, the distinction exists. Moreover, the main portion of the Colonial Union’s attention at the moment is in a rapprochement with Earth. Since you ask what I plan to do to contain the humans, I will note to you what you should already know, which is that since the Conclave trade fleet carrying Major John Perry appeared over Earth, we have maintained an active diplomatic presence on Earth. We have envoys in five of their major national capitals, and we have made the governments and people of Earth aware that should they choose not to reconcile with the Colonial Union, there is always the option of the Earth joining the Conclave.”

This caused a stir among the assembly, and not without reason. The Colonial Union had destroyed the Conclave war fleet over Roanoke Colony, a fleet comprising a ship from each member race of the union. There was not a member race in the Conclave that had not suffered a wound from the humans, or that was not aware how perilously close the Conclave came to collapse in the immediate aftermath of that particular fiasco.

Representative Hado seemed especially incensed. “You would allow into the Conclave the same race who tried to destroy it,” he said.

Gau did not answer the question directly. Instead he turned and addressed another representative. “Representative Plora,” he said. “Would you please stand.”

Representative Plora, an Owspa, shambled up on its spindly legs.

“If memory serves, Representative Hado, in the not-too-distant past, the Elpri and the Owspa shed a significant amount of their blood and treasure trying to eradicate each other from space and history,” Gau said. “How many millions of each of your citizens died because of the hatred between your races? And yet both of you are here in this august assembly, peaceable, as your worlds are now peaceable.”

“We attacked each other, not the Conclave,” Hado said.

“I believe the principle still applies,” Gau said, with a tone that suggested he had a hard time believing Hado attempted to make that argument. “And in any event, it was the Colonial Union which attacked the Conclave, not the Earth. To blame the Earth, or the humans who live on it, for the actions of the Colonial Union is to misapprehend how the Earth itself has been used by it. And, to your point, Representative, the longer we may through diplomacy keep Earth from allying itself with the Colonial Union—or joining the Colonial Union outright—the longer we keep the humans from doing any sort of mischief at our door. Is that not what you are asking for?”

Sorvalh watched Hado fidget. It wasn’t at all what he was asking for, of course. What he wanted was the Conclave to expunge the human race from every crevice it clung to. But it looked for the moment as if Gau had walked him into a corner. Which, Sorvalh supposed, was one of the reasons he had these ridiculous question-and-answer sessions in the first place. He was very good at walking his opponents into corners.

“What about the disappearing ships?” came another voice, and everyone, including Sorvalh, turned toward Representative Plora, who had remained standing after it had been called on. Plora, suddenly aware that it was the focus of attention, shrank back but did not sit. “There have been reports of more than a dozen ships that have disappeared from systems where Conclave territory borders human territory. Is that not the work of the humans?”

“And if it is, why have we not responded to it?” Hado said, now out of his corner.

General Gau glanced back to Sorvalh at this point. She resisted giving him her
I told you so
expression.

“Yes, we have lost several ships in the last few Sur,” General Gau said. “They have largely been merchant ships. These are systems where piracy is not entirely unknown, however. Before we leap to the assumption that humans are behind this, we should explore the more likely explanation that raiders—ostensibly citizens of the Conclave—are the cause.”

“How can we know for sure?” Hado said. “Have you made it a priority to know, General? Or are you willing to underestimate the humans for a second time?”

This quieted the assembly. Gau had taken responsibility for the debacle at Roanoke and had never pretended other than that he was responsible. But only a fool would press him on the subject, and it appeared that Unli Hado was that fool.

“It is always a priority for our government to find those of our citizens who are lost to us,” Gau said. “We will find them and we will find whoever is behind their disappearance—whoever they are. What we will
not
do, Representative Hado, is use the disappearances of these ships to launch into a fight with a people who have shown how committed they are to trying to destroy us when they feel they are cornered and have no choice left but to fight. You ask me whether I am willing to underestimate the humans. I assure you that I am not. What I am wondering, Representative, is why
you
seem so determined to do so.”

*   *   *

Sorvalh visited General Gau later in his personal office. It was cramped, even if one was not a Lalan, who were a tall species, and Hafte Sorvalh was tall for her species.

“It’s all right,” Gau said, from his desk, as she ducked through the door. “You can say it.”

“Say what?” Sorvalh asked.

“Every time you crouch through the door of this office, you come in, you straighten up, and you look around,” Gau said. “Every time you get an expression on your face that looks like you have bitten into something slightly unpleasant. So go ahead and say it: My office is cramped.”

“I would say it is cozy,” Sorvalh said.

Gau laughed in his fashion. “Of course you would,” he said.

“It’s been commented on by others how small this office is, considering your position,” Sorvalh said.

“I have the large public office for meetings, and to impress people when I have to, of course,” Gau said. “I’m not blind to the power of impressive spaces. But I’ve spent most of my life on starships, even after I began to build the Conclave. You get used to not a lot of space. I’m more comfortable here. And no one can say that I give more to myself than to the representatives of any of our member races. And that, too, has its advantages.”

“I see your point,” Sorvalh said.

“Good,” Gau said, and then motioned to the chair that he clearly had brought in for her, because it matched her physiology. “Please, sit.”

Sorvalh sat and waited. Gau attempted to wait her out, but waiting out a Lalan is a bad bet on a good day. “All right, say the
other
thing you’re thinking,” Gau said.

“Unli Hado,” Sorvalh said.

“One of the graspingly ambitious types that you warned me about,” Gau said.

“He’s not going to go away,” Sorvalh said. “Nor is he entirely without allies.”

“Very few,” Gau said.

“But growing,” Sorvalh said. “You have me with you for these sessions to count heads. I count heads. There are more of them each session who are either in his orbit or drifting toward him. You won’t have to worry about him this time, or the next, or possibly for several sessions down the line. But if this goes on, in time you will have a faction on your hands, and that faction will be agitating for the eradication of the humans. All of them.”

“One of the reasons we formed the Conclave was to rid ourselves of the idea that an entire people could or should be eradicated,” Gau said.

“I am aware of that,” Sorvalh said. “It was one of the reasons why my people gave you and the Conclave their allegiance. I am also aware that ideals are hard to practice, especially when they are new. And I am also aware that there’s not a species in the Conclave who doesn’t find the humans … well …
vexing
is likely the most polite word for it.”

“They are that,” Gau said.

“Do you really believe that they would be that hard to kill?” Sorvalh asked.

Gau presented an unusual face to Sorvalh. “An unusual and surprising question, coming from you of all people,” he said.

“I don’t wish them dead, personally,” Sorvalh said. “At least, not actively. Nor would the Lalan government support a policy of extinction. But you suggested to Hado they would be a formidable opponent. I am curious if you believe it.”

“Are the humans able to stand against us ship to ship, soldier to soldier? No, of course not,” Gau said. “Even our defeat at Roanoke, with over four hundred ships destroyed, was not a material blow to our strength. It was one ship out of dozens or hundreds that each of our members had in their own fleets.”

“So you don’t believe it,” Sorvalh said.

“That’s not what I said,” Gau said. “I said they can’t stand against us ship to ship. But if the humans go to war with us, it won’t be ship to ship. How many human ships went against us at Roanoke? None. And yet we were defeated—and the blow was immense. The Conclave almost fell, Hafte, not because our material strength had been compromised, but because our psychological strength had. Those ships were not what the humans were aiming for. Our unity was. The humans almost shattered us.”

“And you believe they could do it again,” Sorvalh said.

“If we pressed them? Why wouldn’t they?” Gau said. “Throwing the Conclave nations back into war with each other is an optimum result for the humans. It would keep all of us occupied while they rebuild their strength and position. The real question is not whether the humans—the Colonial Union—could attack and possibly destroy the Conclave, if pressed. The real question is why they haven’t tried to do it since Roanoke.”

“As you say, they have been busy trying to bring the Earth back into the fold,” Sorvalh said.

“Let us hope it takes them a long time,” Gau said.

“Or perhaps they have started making war on the Conclave,” Sorvalh suggested.

“You’re talking about the missing ships,” Gau said.

“I am,” Sorvalh said. “As tiresome as Representative Hado may be, the disappearance of so many ships near human space is not to be dismissed out of hand.”

“I don’t dismiss it,” Gau said. “The representative-major for the fleet has our investigators scouring the scenes and the nearby populated worlds for information. We have nothing so far.”

“Ships rarely disappear so comprehensively,” Sorvalh said. “If there’s no trace, that in itself says something.”

“What it doesn’t say is who is responsible, however,” Gau said, and then raised a hand as Sorvalh moved to comment. “It’s not to say we don’t have our intelligence net within the Colonial Union working overtime trying to find connections between the humans and the disappearances. We do. However, if we find it, we will deal with it discreetly, and without the sort of open warfare that Hado and his friends in the assembly so want us to have.”

“Your desire for subtlety will frustrate them,” Sorvalh said.

“I am fine with them being frustrated,” Gau said. “It’s a small price to pay for keeping the Conclave intact. However, it is not the discussion of the disappearing ships that is the reason I asked you here, Hafte.”

“I am at your service, General,” Sorvalh said.

Gau picked up a manuscript sheet on his desk and handed it to her.

She gave him a curious look as she took it. “A hard copy,” she said. Her assignments from him were usually offered on her computer.

“It’s not a copy,” Gau said. “That sheet you have is the only place in the entire Conclave where that information is recorded.”

“What is it?” she asked.

“It’s a list of new human colonies,” Gau said.

Sorvalh looked at Gau, genuinely shocked. The Conclave had forbidden any unaffiliated races from colonizing new planets. If they tried, the new colonies would be displaced, or destroyed if the colonists would not leave. “They can’t truly be that stupid,” she said.

“They are not,” Gau said. “Or at least, officially, the Colonial Union is not.” He pointed at the sheet. “These are what the humans call ‘wildcat colonies.’ It means that they are not sanctioned or supported by the Colonial Union. Most of these sorts of colonies are dead in a year.”

“So nothing we could call out the Colonial Union for,” Sorvalh said.

“No,” Gau said. “Except for this: We have rumors that the Bula found humans attempting a wildcat colony on one of their worlds, and that at least a few of the colonists were Colonial Defense Forces members. The Colonial Union attempted to extract the colony and were discovered doing so by the Bula. It had to part with a substantial ransom to retrieve its citizens and buy the Bula’s silence.”

“These wildcat colonies aren’t actually unofficial at all, then,” Sorvalh said. “And we’re back to the question of whether they are truly that stupid.”

“It’s a fine question, but one that is tangential to my real concern,” Gau said.

Sorvalh waggled the sheet in her hand. “You’re worried that Hado and his friends will find out about these.”

“Precisely,” Gau said, and pointed at the sheet again. “That’s the only written-out list, and it’s written out only once to avoid it slipping out easily into the universe. But I am not stupid, nor do I believe my intelligence gatherers talk only to me. Hado and his compatriots will find out. And if they find out and if these colonies really do have Colonial Defense Forces members within them, then we have no choice but to remove the colony. If the colony won’t be moved, we’ll have to destroy it.”

“And if we destroy it, we’ll be at war with the Colonial Union,” Sorvalh said.

“Or something close enough to it,” Gau said. “The humans know they are in a bad position, Hafte. They are dangerous animals on the best of days. Poking at them right now is going to go poorly for everyone involved. I want this problem solved privately before it becomes a public problem.”

Sorvalh smiled. “I imagine this is where I come in.”

“I’ve opened up a back channel to the Colonial Union,” Gau said.

“And how did you do that?” Sorvalh asked.

“Me to our envoy in Washington, D.C.,” Gau said. “Him to John Perry. John Perry to a friend of his in the CDF Special Forces. And so on up the chain of command, and back down again.”

Sorvalh gave a motion of assent. “And my job is to meet with the back channel.”