All for All, page 37
part #3 of Cast Adrift Series
"Nancy," he said. "Take a seat."
"Thank you." Nancy sounded tired, too. "The talks are moving quickly, for better or worse."
"The sooner we have an agreement, the better," Abraham said, although he knew the Pashtali might well break their agreements once they recovered from the war. "How did it go?"
"Surprisingly well, once we got through all the posturing," Nancy told him. She accepted a cup of coffee from Rachel, then leaned back in her chair. "They've accepted our independence and that of our allies. They've conceded our control of the Occupied Zone - charming - and shipping rights through the crossroads and threadlines linking us to the allied stars. They have also agreed to drop complaints about us using their ships and IFF codes in combat, largely - I think - because they weren't getting any traction."
Abraham frowned. "What's the bad news?"
Nancy sipped her coffee. "They're refusing to concede that they started the war, through undermining our control of the Occupied Zone, and they have flatly refused to pay us any reparations. They did offer to assist us in regaining control, but my general feeling is that we'd be fools to accept. Letting them have any sort of legal presence within the zone will let them resume the war at a later date."
"Or even simply undermine our control," Abraham agreed. "We'd be blamed for everything they did."
"Yes." Nancy picked up a sandwich and nibbled it thoughtfully. "In short, sir, there are limits to how far we can press them."
Abraham sipped his own coffee. "Do you think we could get anything more from them, if we push the issue?"
"It's hard to say," Nancy said, "but I doubt it. They are not ... shall we say ... inclined to make any concessions they don't have to. The ones they have offered are concessions that cost them very little. Demanding reparations in addition to everything else will probably prolong the war, as well as making us look greedy."
"They did a hell of a lot of damage to our world," Abraham said, coldly.
"Yes, and they will argue we did a lot of damage in return," Nancy countered. "Right now, sir, we have the edge. Their fleet took heavy losses and they're losing territory to a multitude of races. Galactic opinion is on our side. But that will change, given time. Not everyone likes us, sir, and not everyone is inclined to see us as any better than our enemies. We have a window of opportunity to secure a favourable peace, if we don't push it too hard."
"Point taken," Abraham said. "How do our allies feel?"
"They're willing to go along with it, for the moment," Nancy said. "The Pashtali have conceded the independence of the Terminus powers, as well as shipping lanes through the surrounding systems. It's the best they could have expected when they allied with us."
"I'll have to see what the cabinet thinks," Abraham said. "They won't be happy if I make the final call alone."
He turned back to the window, his mind churning. The darkness hid the damage - the ruined buildings, the shattered lives - left behind by the invasion, but he knew it was there. No amount of wishful thinking could repair the scars the enemy had left on humanity's homeworld. He wanted to turn the screws as much as possible, to hurt the enemy ... to make them pay for what they'd done. But, no matter how he looked at it, there was no way to force the Pashtali to concede much more. If anything ... prolonging the talks might give them time to rebalance and resume the war.
We'll never be able to let our guard down, he thought. And we'll never dare look weak.
He sighed. There were still immense challenges, from regaining control of the Occupied Zone to rebuilding the fleet and repairing the damage to Earth. It was going to be a bloody nightmare ... no, it already was. The public might cheer his name right now, as if he'd led the fleet in combat and won the war singlehandedly, but that would change the moment the recession began to bite. God knew how that would work out. He was powerful - and war had given him more personal authority than any previous First Speaker - yet he couldn't fix the planet's problems with a wave of his hand. The credit for the victory would be replaced by blame for the economic crisis.
"I'll speak to them tomorrow morning, then you can put together the final proposal," he said, turning back to her. "Do you think they'll accept?"
"I think they want to get the war over as quickly as possible," Nancy reminded him. "The fighting hurt them, too."
"They have more slack in their system," Abraham grumbled. "Are they trying to come to terms with the rest of their enemies?"
"Probably." Nancy shrugged. "They'll find it harder to talk to the Great Powers. There aren't so many concessions they can offer, not without weakening themselves quite badly."
"True," Abraham agreed. He shook his head. "You did well, out there."
"Thank you," Nancy said. If she was surprised by the sudden change in subject, she hid it well. "But after this, I'm going to retire."
"Me too, perhaps," Abraham said. They shared tired smiles. "We'll see."
***
Nancy wondered, as she took her seat at the table, if the Pashtali found humans as disconcerting as humans found them. The five ambassadors were huddled so close together that it was hard to tell them apart ... hell, it was hard to even look at them. She saw flashes of eyes and claws and spidery legs that looked profoundly unnatural, even to an experienced diplomat and galactic traveller. She supposed the humans looked just as odd to their eyes. They had to think humans were constantly on the verge of falling over as they walked from place to place.
She put the thought aside as Ambassador Yasuke called the meeting to order. The talks had progressed with astonishing speed, in stark contrast to the talks held after the Battle of Earth, but she feared they hadn't proceeded fast enough. The political situation kept changing, to the point she suspected there might come a time - sooner rather than later - when the Pashtali would feel confident enough to resume the war. And if that happened ... who knew? The human race might lose the war and, in doing so, lose everything.
"I have put together a set of proposals," she said, as if she'd done the work herself. Her staff had worked overnight, drawing together the preliminary outline and then discussing them with their allies before forwarding them to her. "We believe these address all the issues raised in the last few days. If you accept them, we can proceed to signing and implementing the agreement."
She pushed a sheet of paper across the table. It was almost painfully short by Galactic standards - normally, a peace treaty would be hundreds of pages and consist largely of flowery phrases and verbiage that hardly anyone would ever read - but there was no need to waste time. The Pashtali wanted peace as much as their human enemies. She tried to ignore the way her skin crawled as the alien picked up the paper, his eyes seeming to bulge as he ran his eyes down the sheet. It wouldn't be the final copy, of course - she expected the Pashtali to insist on a handful of minor and pointless changes - but still ...
"We accept, in principle," the spokesman said. Nancy blinked in surprise. That quickly? A nasty suspicion ran through her mind. Were they being conned in some way? Or did the Pashtali want to sign quickly before their position worsened? Nancy had checked the datanet during breakfast and discovered there were an astonishing number of humans who wanted to make the Pashtali scream. "We will consult with our government, then sign tomorrow."
Nancy sat back in her chair as the aliens withdrew, unsure if she should be relieved or deeply worried. The Pashtali wouldn't risk breaking the treaty in a hurry, would they? The peace talks had been sponsored by the Alphans, after all, and they wouldn't take kindly to anyone messing them about. There were perfectly legal ways to stall ...
Take what you can get, she told herself. She'd seen the economic projections. The war could not be allowed to go on, or the entire planet would collapse. And hope they're not lulling you to sleep while they prepare to put a knife in your back.
***
There was no point, many would argue, in holding a signing ceremony when the real agreement had been made over the FTL network, between several governments hundreds of light years apart. Ambassador Yasuke disagreed with such assertions, at least in part because a formal ceremony made it clear that talks had been completed and the matter was now closed. And besides, they made for good theatre.
He wondered, as he watched the representatives take their places - and the media take positions behind them - if they understood what was really happening. His government had expected, from what he'd been told, that the human-led alliance would fall apart within days of the final battle. It was rare for an alliance to last very long, not when the various parties stood to gain more from betraying their former allies, but here ... the humans were treating their partners as equals, rather than selling them out. Yasuke had watched with interest as new defence and trade agreements were signed, the alliance even recruiting new members from amongst the lesser powers. It was hard to believe it would last, but ...
A rustle ran through the chamber as the representatives read the paper one final time - as if there'd be any changes, after endless haggling over the communications network - and then started to sign their names. Yasuke watched calmly - even the reporters were quiet - as more and more names were added to the sheet, before putting his own at the end as a witness and facilitator. The room seemed to explode with life as the paper was placed on display, humans and aliens cheering loudly even though the war had technically ended hours ago. He hid his amusement as the Pashtali stood, bowed stiffly, and retreated from the chamber. Yasuke felt a stab of sympathy, despite everything. The ambassadors were probably going to be blamed for the treaty.
But it's better than they had any right to expect, Yasuke thought. Personally, he'd suspected that the humans and their allies would demand more. His staff was undecided as to whether the humans had made a wise move. On one hand, they'd limited their own commitments and avoided giving their enemies a ready-made excuse to resume the war; on the other, the Pashtali still had a powerful fleet and a solid core of fixed defences. They might feel strong enough to resume the war sooner than the humans think.
He stood up - with the departure of the alien ambassadors, the formal aspect of the meeting was over - and made his way back to his aircar. The humans wanted to dance and sing and do whatever else humans did, to cheer the end of a war, but he simply wanted to return to the embassy. His government would want a report, as soon as possible, and he wanted ... he sighed inwardly. Reading between the lines, he suspected his time on Earth was about to come to an end. Too many people back home thought he'd gone native.
And the humans are more important now, he reflected, as he took the elevator to the aircar pad on the roof. There'll be many more volunteers for the job.
He stepped onto the roof and stopped, surprised. Observer Salix stood there, hands bent into the posture of respect. Yasuke frowned. They weren't friends or even acquaintances. And yet, they had something in common. They were both Alphans.
"My Lord Viceroy," Observer Salix said. "Might I beg a moment of your time?"
Yasuke paused. Technically, he had the right to be addressed as viceroy. It was the highest rank he'd ever held. Practically, he'd let that fall by the wayside. The Viceregal Government no longer existed. To use the title on Earth would cause considerable offense ...
"You may," he said, finally. The younger man wanted something, something important. He would have made an appointment otherwise. Meeting Yasuke like this was a major breach in protocol. He wondered, idly, how the observer had even reached the aircar pad. The guards should have stopped him before he reached the roof. "If you would care to fly with me ...?"
"It would be my pleasure," Observer Salix said. "We have much to discuss."
Chapter Forty
Solar City, Earth
"Admiral," First Speaker Douglas said. "I'm sorry I didn't have a chance to speak with your earlier."
"I understand," Naomi said. She'd brought the majority of the fleet home a month after the Battle of Antigen, passing through the former Occupied Zone to show the flag and remind the inhabitants Earth would be reasserting its authority shortly. The remainder of her ships had remained to patrol the shipping lanes and monitor the Pashtali from a safe distance. "We both had other duties."
"You need some leave," Douglas said. "And I suggest you take some now."
Naomi frowned. "Two-thirds of my crew are already on leave," she said. She'd had to draw lots to determine who'd remain with the ships for a week before they had their own chance to take a break. "I'll go on leave with the rest of them."
"Make sure you do," Douglas said. "You did well, out there."
"Thanks." Naomi knew she was being curt, but it was hard to care. She'd been working herself too hard for too long. "Do you think Admiral Glass would approve?"
"You won a battle that ended the war," Douglas said. "It didn't end the threat completely - they're still out there, nursing their wounds and plotting revenge - but you bought us time to repair the damage and expand the fleet. You did very well indeed."
"We can't rest on our laurels," Naomi cautioned him. "The Galactics didn't give us very good odds of surviving, when the Pashtali decided we'd make a suitable target. They saw a ragtag fleet of outdated warships and converted freighters, built around a hard core of home-made battleships. They thought we'd lose. Instead, we convinced them they had to take us seriously."
"Good," Douglas said. "It'll take some time for someone else to work up the nerve to confront us."
"Not as long as you might think," Naomi said. "We used to look like a minor power, barely able to police its own home systems. Now, we look powerful and dangerous ... and, perhaps, capable of building our own crossroads generators."
Douglas leaned forward. "Can we?"
"In theory." Naomi had discussed the matter extensively with Commodore Valentine, before he and his remaining crew had returned to the Pournelle Shipyards. "In practice, it might be a little harder than we want to admit. We really need to build up our hard core of warships first."
"We will," Douglas said. "You won us time, Admiral. And the planet is grateful."
"We also got lucky," Naomi said. "We must always bear that in mind."
Douglas nodded. "I read your reports very carefully," he said. "But is there anything you want to bring to my attention? Anything in particular?"
Naomi considered it. "The fleet is weaker than it seems, sir," she said. "We need to be careful not to get into any more fights, if possible. And ..."
She took a breath. "We also need to refrain from cheating our allies," she added. "If we can keep the alliance together, we will be punching well above our weight."
"As long as everyone marches in unison," Douglas said. "We'll see what we can do, but the future is always uncertain."
"Yes, sir," Naomi said. "And one other thing, something I left out of my reports."
Douglas's eyes narrowed. "You thought it might be intercepted?"
"Yes, sir," Naomi said. "During the campaign, I worked closely with Observer Salix. My original fears were ill-founded. He wasn't - isn't - a blowhard, nor was he consumed with racial superiority or arrogance or anything else that might blind him to the truth. It was a little awkward working with him, but ... it was better than my old CO."
She smiled, humourlessly. "I know how to read Alphans, sir, and even the smartest of them aren't always capable of hiding their feelings. I had the impression, towards the end of the campaign, that something was bothering him. If he were human, I'd say he was brooding over something. And I don't know what."
"A romantic interest?" Douglas looked as if he wasn't sure what to make of it. "Or ... the prospect of us losing the war?"
"I don't know," Naomi said. "They ... don't tend to get crazy-obsessed with relationships, unlike us. I've never known one to be particularly bothered at the thought of being apart from his partner - I don't think they even have permanent partners. I think it was something more political."
"But you don't know what," Douglas said. "Any thoughts?"
"Nothing concrete," Naomi said. "But our former masters may not be too pleased if we become too powerful too quickly."
"I'll discuss it with my staff," Douglas said. "You might be jumping at shadows, though."
"Yes." Naomi had wondered, more than once, if she was imagining it. "It's just something I thought I should bring to your attention."
Douglas nodded, glancing at his terminal. "Thank you," he said. "Go get some rest. I'll speak to you later, once all the hubbub" - he waved at the window and the cheering crowds beyond - "is over, and reality starts to bite again."
"Yes, sir," Naomi said.
She stood, saluted, and made her way back to the shuttle. The noise from the streets below was growing louder, the entire planet forgetting its woes long enough to celebrate the victory. Her lips twitched. Her crewmen were down there, getting thoroughly drunk or laid or both ... she was tempted to join them, even though she knew she had to get back to orbit. There were just too many things that needed her personal attention.
But at least we can catch our breath, she thought. They had won a victory and they had won some time ... time enough, she hoped, to build up the fleet to the point no one, not even the Great Powers, would challenge them. And if the alliance lasts long enough, we can change galactic politics once and for all.
***
"I apologise for meeting you like this," Observer Salix said, once the automated aircar was on its way. "I wanted to speak with you well away from prying eyes and ears."
"My office would have been quite suitable," Yasuke said, not bothering to conceal his irritation. The youngster had not only intercepted him but insisted on sweeping the aircar for bugs before exchanging more than light pleasantries. "You could easily have arranged an appointment."
"Perhaps, but not without raising eyebrows," Observer Salix said.
