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  Gibbon sat down in his chair, located at the center of the table. The chair sat on a slightly raised platform to give him a little more height, a touch of vanity that had become an inside joke among the members. The side conversations dropped off as Gibbon began the meeting.

  “Hello, everyone, let’s get right down to business. I know most of you have already heard the details of the Denebolan offensive, but as some of the representatives have just arrived, as well as Mr. McKenzie, I would like General Holts to give us a summary of the war up to this point. General?”

  “Thank you, First Council. As one would expect, the majority of the activity is taking place in the Denebolan system.” A three-dimensional view of the system appeared above the table. The seven planets of the system rotated slowly around a red star.

  “The initial assault was totally successful and destroyed or severely damaged the Horologian military installations on the three habitable worlds and the two outposts on the outer planets. We immediately set up a strong perimeter around the system after our strike because we knew they would be forced to make a counterattack or concede the system to us. As of this time, there have only been probing attacks by the Horologii. We know they are pulling military resources from other areas in preparation for an assault. I believe we are ready and able to repel any attacks.

  “In terms of casualties, we lost four cruisers, five destroyers, six transports, and various support ships with most of their crews. Around 900,000 naval personnel are dead. We lost about another half million in ground troops. Minimal losses, considering the gains we’ve made. The Horologii probably lost three times as many soldiers and civilians.

  “Over the next few weeks, the ground troops will continue to subjugate the civilian populations of the habitable planets and wipe out any resistance. We are repairing the military facilities as fast as we can, so our troops can use them for the defense of the planets.”

  “Any concerns at this point?” Paul interjected.

  “The main thing that worries me is that we stripped our forces from some of the other sectors to mount this attack. We are spread very thin in places, especially with respect to our allies.” As he said this, General Holts looked at the representatives of the Consortium at the table. There were not a lot of happy faces among them.

  “Well, you said that the Horologii are also withdrawing their forces for a counterattack, so it’s likely they will be too weak to attack elsewhere. I’m sure we can handle anything they throw at us, either in the Denebolan system or anywhere else. This blow must have weakened them considerably,” Gibbon added.

  “Let’s hope so,” Dran commented dryly.

  “Dran, we aren’t going to leave our allies out on a limb,” Gibbon responded in his best confident manner. “We’re all together in this.”

  The expression on Dran’s face didn’t change. He never really trusted Earthlings, and he trusted Gibbon even less. “I guess we’ll see.”

  The rest of the meeting centered on financing the ongoing war and recruiting more resources for the army. The war had been going on long enough to have drained most of the manpower of the Consortium planets. Even though there were trillions of humans living in these systems, the war had killed off or incapacitated most of those fit for military service. Those that had survived to this point were ready to retire. The half million men killed in the attack on Denebola, though a small percent of the entire army, were not easily replaced. The allies especially were beginning to feel the strain. This was the main reason Paul’s peace mission was sent in the first place.

  Paul briefed the councilors on his negotiations with the Horologii and stated that he had been very close to establishing a treaty. Gibbon seemed amused by the narrative, but Paul could tell that several of the representatives were more than unhappy; they were angry. Paul had talked to several of the representatives before going to Sirus V, and they had expressed their hopes that the negotiations would be successful. That may have explained why the allies were not included in the planning for the surprise attack. Paul thought he could exploit the fact that the allies were left out of the loop by playing on their dislike and distrust of Gibbon. If he could increase the wedge between Earth and its allies on this issue, it might work to his advantage.

  After about four hours, the meeting broke for lunch. Paul was able to mingle with the members of the Council and begin to get back into the flow after being gone for three months. While on Sirus V he had kept himself up to date on what was happening in diplomatic circles, but that was no substitute for one-on-one, private conversations. The trouble he spotted almost immediately was that everyone thought he had been in on the planning of the Denebolan attack. He was considered Gibbon’s pawn by the representatives and thus was not to be trusted. That was going to be hard to overcome. The irony of his situation was that Paul doubted Gibbon really trusted him either. Paul had to ingratiate himself with both sides again, or he would have no influence at all. He decided his main hope lay with Dran.

  Paul wanted to talk to Dran during lunch, but Stephen grabbed Paul’s arm in the corridor and started talking in a very low voice.

  “Listen, Paul, let’s get one thing clear, I think Gibbon is a fool for keeping you on staff. He thinks you’ve been brought into the fold, but I don’t trust you, and you’d better not screw up.”

  “Stephen, that really hurts! Here I thought we were the best of buddies. Thanks for the warning.” Paul turned away, easily breaking Stephen’s hold on his arm, and continued his search for Dran. Boy, Stephen’s as subtle as a nuclear explosion, he thought, as he walked along the corridor.

  Gibbon knew that Stephen disliked Paul and disagreed with the decision to keep him on staff, and he knew that, given the opportunity, Stephen would tell Paul exactly how he felt. This was okay with Gibbon since he did not trust Paul either and had kept him on only because he knew he had Paul in a no-win situation. He believed that Paul would have to support him as long as he thought it was in his best interest and the best interest of the Consortium. Gibbon was playing on Paul’s patriotism even though it placed the Consortium before the Earth. He was astute enough to know that, once Paul was in a position to do so, he would try to strike back at Gibbon, but he would be ready for it and would use it to his own advantage. Gibbon had Hernst Caliper, the head of Internal and External Intelligence (IEI), place one of his best men on Paul to watch his every move. As backup, he had one more person watching Paul–someone Paul would not suspect of being a spy. Gibbon would use Paul to lead him to those members of the Consortium, Assembly, and even his own administration whose loyalty was suspect. With his years of experience and many contacts in both Earth’s and the allies’ governments, Paul was the perfect person to supply Gibbon with a long list of names for retribution. For a second time, Gibbon was planning to trick Paul into unwittingly doing his bidding. Gibbon loved the irony.

  Paul failed to corner Dran during lunch, and once the meeting was adjourned for the day Dran seemed to disappear. Paul was sure Dran was avoiding him, but he knew where Dran would head that night. Paul’s spies had told him Dran had a new girlfriend in Antioch, a small town on the outskirts of Consortium City. Paul had a very good idea where he could find his friend.

  ~

  That night, when Dran came into the small café with a beautiful girl on his arm, Paul was already there, seated at a table in the corner with one of his most trusted guards. He wasn’t sure that Dran would be eating out tonight, but he knew that if he was, he would come to this Italian café. Dran was a Italian food addict, and this was the best one in the area. He waited until Dran was seated, so he couldn’t just turn around and leave. Then Paul walked up to his table and took a seat before Dran could react.

  “We need to talk.”

  “I’m sorry, but I’m busy right now, and you’re being very rude, ya know.” Dran had learned English from a New Yorker, and he never managed to get the word “you” right.

  “I know I a
m, but I couldn’t wait to be polite. You’ve been avoiding me and not taking my calls.”

  “Well, I’m sorry that ya feel that way. Why don’t ya come by my office tomorrow morning, and I’ll talk to ya then, maybe? Now please leave.”

  “Yeah, right,” Paul said very sarcastically. “Actually I think we should talk now. I could send a message to Lalande and say you were too busy dating an Earth girl to talk to me. What do you thing they’d say to that?”

  “Ya know, if ya did that, I’d have to have ya turned inside out.”

  “Now, that’s the Dran I know and love. Glad to have you back. You haven’t introduced me to your new friend.”

  “Sandy, this is Paul McKenzie, the Foreign Affairs Councilor, the ‘Hero’ of the Denebolan sneak attack, and a former friend of mine. Paul, Sandy.”

  “Glad to meet you. Sandy, please do me a favor and please go over to that table in the corner with the nice man seated at it.”

  “You mean that man that looks like he is about ready to bite someone?”

  “Yes, that’s him. His name is Jack, and his bark is worse than his bite. On second thought, his bite is worse, but he wouldn’t bite you. Promise.”

  Dran nodded his head at her to do as Paul said.

  Sandy got up, walked over to the table, and sat as far away from Jack as she could while still sitting at the same table. Jack had that affect on people.

  Dran turned from watching Sandy to look at Paul.

  “Now that ya’ve destroyed what was gonna be a great evening, whadaya want?”

  “Don’t worry, this won’t take long. You can get right back to getting laid.” Paul pulled a small electronic devise about the size of a saltshaker out of his pocket and turned it on. Dran recognized it as a scrambler that would prevent anyone from eavesdropping on their conversation. “Now we can talk.”

  “Ya worried about something, or just paranoid?”

  “Both. Listen, I’m going to tell you something that you can’t tell anyone else, or we’re both screwed. I know you don’t believe this, but I was not aware of the attack on Denebola until it had already happened. I was not in on the planning and would not have agreed to the plan if I had been. You’ve known me long enough to know where I stand on this war. You know I want it to end.”

  “Actually, Paul, I do believe ya, because I do know ya well enough. I just wanted ya to tell me yourself, and I didn’t want to make it too easy. Ya know.”

  “Well, that’s a relief. I had this whole monologue planned out to convince you, but I guess I’ll use it on someone else. What’s with the vanishing act today?”

  “Ya’re not what I would call popular right now among the Consortium allies. More like reviled. There are some that know ya well enough to believe ya didn’t know, but the majority is against ya. I didn’t want it to seem that I was being too friendly with ya. After all, I have to work with these guys also. And your public statements are not helping.”

  “Thanks for the support. You know I have no choice but to follow the party line; otherwise I’d be out and would lose what little pull I still have. We’ll have to talk in more detail later. This is not the place. Right now, I’ll let you get back to your seduction. Nice looking girl. Your government would boil you in oil if they knew what you were up to.” Paul knew that the Lalandian government did not like their representatives fraternizing with the locals, especially Earthlings. They thought it compromised their judgment, but they underestimated Dran.

  “Let’s hope they don’t find out. Good-bye.”

  “Good-bye, Dran.” Paul got up from the table, placing the scrambler back in his pocket. He signaled for Jack to join him, and they headed out of the café. Paul glanced over his shoulder as he left to see the girl walking sensuously back to Dran’s table. He thought I’ve got to give Cherie a call soon.

  ~

  For the next few days, Paul was tied up in meetings and preparing reports, mostly about the war. He didn’t have much time for anything else. He made sure that he always appeared to be in line with Gibbon’s policies, without compromising his principals by making sure his written and spoken word was sufficiently obfuscated. He was honest with Gibbon about how things were going on the foreign front. The allies were torn between the success of the surprise attack and the hope they had had for the treaty. They wanted the war to end, one way or the other, but there was cautious support for Gibbon because the military reports were all positive. Paul knew that Gibbon was riding a high from the military success, but he also knew the Horologii were much more resilient than the First Council thought. They weren’t going to let the Denebolan system change hands without a fight. Paul just wasn’t sure where they would strike. General Holts thought they would stage a counterattack on the Denebolan system, but Paul didn’t think the Horologii would be so stupid as to throw their wounded army into attack that was clearly anticipated. It would result in tremendous casualties without much chance of success. He saw the Horologii as a lot more sensible and subtle than that.

  Paul had been formulating a plan for maneuvering the Consortium toward the negotiated peace he had almost attained at the Sirian conference and, at the same time, maybe regaining some of his self-esteem. He had worked out the overall strategy, but not the details. He knew that Gibbon’s position rested on the Assembly, which in turn relied on their constituents. Gibbon’s supporters currently controlled about two-thirds of the Assembly, but that still meant that one-third was in opposition. Paul needed to peel away Gibbon’s support in the Assembly before he could move against him. Assembly members tended to do whatever it took to keep themselves in power, and that meant keeping the people on their side even if they had to dump someone they had previously supported. Loyalty could turn out to be prohibitively expensive. The Consortium was the second important factor in the political mix. Even though Earth was the dominant member and had a low opinion of the allies in general, they could not prosecute the war without the allies help. Earth knew it, and the allies knew it. During times of peace, the Earth could afford to dismiss the allies, but not now. If Earth lost the support of the other Consortium members for the war, Earth would be in a very vulnerable position. In order to execute his plan, it was essential that he stay in Gibbon’s administration. If he were dismissed, Paul would no longer have the power to influence events, Gibbon would make sure of that. He had to convince Gibbon and his staff that he was still on the administration’s team. If this meant demeaning himself, so be it.

  ~

  Paul had managed to talk to some of the Consortium members and was making some headway on repairing his damaged reputation. In spite of his open support of Gibbon, they could tell he was genuinely concerned with their wellbeing and that his negotiations had been an honest attempt to end the conflict. Paul also managed to set up a meeting with Dran in Paul’s office in the Foreign Affairs facility. Paul was confident that his office was secure. He had it swept once a week and had a scrambler on at all times. Dran, however, was not as confident and brought his own scrambler.

  Paul loved his office, which was based on a design from the third decade of the twentieth century. The office had wood paneling on three walls and a built-in bookcase along the other. Paul hadn’t read a book in years, but thought they looked good. His oak desk was large and covered with all the standard desk paraphernalia from the 1920’s. A large, leather swivel chair was behind the desk and two leather chairs were in front of it. On the wall behind the desk hung pictures of Paul shaking hands with various interplanetary leaders from the last twenty years. Paul was not very impressed with the cult of personality, but he figured it gave him greater credibility. In the same vane, Paul was known for liberally sprinkling his conversations with quotations from the 20th century, which, unknown to him, some of his colleagues found irritating.

  The office had cost him a fortune and had become something of a tourist attraction over the years. When he was not in town, people would drop by his of
fice on periodic tours of the building. These visits had increased since his transformation to hero. Paul didn’t mind the tours. Sometimes when he had a visitor, the person would ask him what this device or that object on his desk was used for, and Paul would do his best to explain its use.

  Dran sat down in one of the chairs facing the desk. “When ya gonna get some decent furniture?” Dran was aware that the office was considered a museum set piece, but he never failed to make the comment when he visited Paul.

  “Funny.” Paul came around from behind the desk and sat in the other chair, next to Dran. “I’m glad we can talk. We have a lot to work out. I’m sure you’ve been following my activities, as I have yours.”

  “Oh, yes. It’s rather interesting to watch ya walking your tightrope. The allies are warming up to ya a little, but I think they would just as soon have ya gone, hero or not. Trust is not something that can be easily reinvested in someone who’d lost it. And of course, on the other side we have Gibbon and his cronies. Ya know, the way Simpson watches you, I don’t think he likes ya, Paul,” Dran laughed.

  “Obviously, that’s not a very exclusive club. I have been working on some contingency plans should this military effort in Denebola go sour.”

  “As long as our military is successful in retaining both the Denebolan system and the upper hand in this war, ya aren’t going to get any support for alternative plans from the allies. No one is gonna go up against Gibbon while he is riding high, flush with military victory. He sees the war ending on his terms in the next year or so. I hear he is making plans to send another peace delegation to the Horologii to set up a treaty now that he has the Denebolan system.”

  “Yeh, I could just see the Horologii welcoming another peace delegation. They’d shoot them on sight.”

  “Ya know, that would be a good reason for Gibbon to send ya.” Dran laughed again. His laugh was very shrill, and Paul always thought that it sounded to humans the same as a dog whistle to a dog. “I was surprised ya managed to get off Sirus V with all your parts intact.”

  “I was too. I think Gibbon would have preferred to have me as a martyr.”