Infinite Day (71 page)

How much do I say?
“I have some.”

“Of what?”

No, I will hold my counsel.
“Eeth, I won't say. But let me ask you a question. Do you believe all that Delastro and Clemant told us about what happened at Farholme?”

“I—we—tend to be trusting. It is our culture. Or was.” He looked perplexed for a moment. “On balance . . .
yes
. I think so. You don't?”

“I think there are anomalies. Things that don't really ring true.”

Ethan was silent for some moments. “You may be right. Tell me if you can document these ‘anomalies.' But, Eliza, don't search too hard for little evils at home when there are such large ones abroad.”

“A wise warning.”
How significant: when pushed, he too has his doubts. I definitely need to make more inquiries.

Eliza was suddenly aware of a short woman with dark hair and an air of authority striding toward them.

“Eeth, there is someone on her way to see you.”

“I asked not to be interrupted.”

“I think the head of the DAS sees herself as above that.”

Kirana Malent joined them. “Eliza, how nice to see you.” The insincerity was blatant. “I wasn't aware that you were on the list of delegates today?”

Eliza bowed her head. “I wasn't. I'm on the point of leaving, Kirana.”

“It's
K
. No names, please. But is there anything I should know about?”

Eliza looked at her. “Probably.”

A spark of annoyance gleamed in the dark eyes.
I shouldn't have provoked her.

Kirana turned to Ethan. “Dr. Malunal, I think you need to return to the meeting. Some of the outer worlds have a new proposal.”

“K, we were just discussing the Guards of the Lord. I thought if anyone knew, you would. Are they a potential threat?”

K's eyes swung between the two of them. “A threat? Hardly. An outburst of enthusiasm, no more. There are more pressing matters.”

Ethan gave a conciliatory shrug.

Eliza bowed. “Anyway, I'm off. They tell me the weather is changing. There's a storm coming in. Eeth, K, good-bye.”

Twenty minutes later, as Eliza drove the borrowed two-seater transport back up the winding and ancient road to Jerusalem, she glimpsed sunlight glinting on something above her.

Overwhelmed by a sudden concern, she pulled over and parked. There she took out her diary and made a quite unnecessary call home about supper arrangements. Then she nonchalantly tilted the diary screen until she could see the sky with the thin wisps of cloud that heralded the change in the weather. On it, she caught the image of a small silver disk circling above the car.

I am being watched. But by whom? K? Or by Delastro's people?
Then an even more worrying thought caught her.
Or are they now one and the same?

Two days later, Ethan was alone in his office, trying to ignore the storm lashing the building and staring at a long bill that would essentially hand over all inter-world travel to the military. All scheduled civil flights would be ended until further notice.
It will cause a lot of hurt.

He sighed, signed the document, and put it back in its folder. He looked up at the clock and saw it said five past ten.
Didn't Seymour say he would be here at ten?

Ethan wondered again why the commander in chief had asked for an urgent, private meeting.
Perhaps he will want to talk about the
Dove
report, to give me further scary scenarios.

Ethan stared out through the window, which was awash with rain. Beyond the compound, now flooded, he could see that the vehicles had their lights on. A brilliant crack of lightning lit the room, and barely a second later, the building seemed to shake as the thunder struck.

As he gazed at the wintry scene, Ethan considered once more the conversation with Eliza. It had troubled him. Not quite as much as the
Dove
report, but in a different way.
But she is right in this: there are forces moving within the Assembly, and I, perhaps, am too close to see what is happening.
I am dependent on advisors, and if they do not speak truthfully, I will be misled.
He sighed.
It is undeniable, too, that
the influence of Delastro is growing rapidly
.
And, although few would even know his name, Clemant
.

He considered the matter of the Guards of the Lord and decided he must ask Seymour about them
. Nothing escapes him. I will trust his judgment.

A knock came at the door, and a stiff-backed man in his late fifties wearing a uniform was shown in. He saluted with a vigorous confidence. “Chairman.”
Formal, as ever. Well, then, let us be chairman and commander.

Ethan sensed anticipation in the gray eyes. He gave a silent prayer.
Lord, grant me the wisdom to handle aright what this man reveals.

Ethan just nodded. “Commander, a wet journey, eh?”

Seymour glanced down ruefully at the wet hems of his trousers. “The combination of checkpoints and the rain . . . Sorry for the delay.”

Ethan gestured his visitor toward the pair of armchairs. As Seymour sat down in one with an agility and energy he envied, Ethan saw he was holding on tightly to a thin satchel.

“I have something for you,” he said, and Ethan heard a barely suppressed excitement in his voice. Seymour reached into the satchel and pulled out a document.

Ethan took it and looked inside at the first page. The heading leaped out at him: Top Secret. Project Daybreak: First Tests.

“Dr. Habbentz's bomb idea.”
I had almost forgotten that.

“Yes.”

Ethan flicked through it, seeing formulae and diagrams.
It works; I know that from his attitude.

There was another flash of lightning, and almost immediately a rumbling boom that seemed to go on for seconds.

Ethan tapped the report. “Tell me what it says. In words I can understand.”
Seymour was always good at the summary
.

“Very well. The computer simulations have confirmed that Dr. Habbentz's idea is valid. In theory, we can make and deliver a weapon that will wipe out the heart of the Dominion.”

“We can destroy a star,” Ethan said, and he heard the numbed awe in his words.

“Strictly, we make the star destroy itself. We can explode Sarata and destroy all the worlds around it.” Seymour's words were precise.

Another flash of lightning cut through the room and there was a long rippling blast of thunder.

Ethan flicked through the report and closed it.
Easier to ask
. “How soon could it be used?”

“Eight weeks at the fastest.”

“That soon?”

“Yes. There are two key elements: the bomb and the ship. The bomb is a polyvalent fusion device surrounded by a precisely crafted array of gravity modification units. The ship is a robotic Triton Class seeder vessel modified with the Below-Space system copied from the
Dove.
Making both will take three weeks. The ship would be sent out through the Gates to Bannermene. That would take two days. There we inject it into Below-Space, and it travels to Sarata in five weeks.”

Ethan consulted a wall calendar. “So it would be in place in mid-January. But, Commander, this weapon raises many awesome issues. We'd be destroying a star system. I can barely grasp that idea.”

“Frankly, neither can I.”

“But let's stay with the military aspects. By then the Dominion fleet may already be on the way.”

“Indeed, but Daybreak would take out the manufacturing sites and the cultic centers. Any fleet would be utterly isolated: no supplies, no reinforcements, no command and control. And remember, the supernova blast would keep going outward. Strategy modeling suggests that they would be forced to retreat in order to evacuate the remaining Dominion worlds before the radiation got them. They would have to sue for peace.” Ethan found himself admiring Seymour's precision and brevity while being troubled by its coldness.

“There are other issues. We agree that this is a weapon of last resort?”

“Chairman, the report clearly states that.”

“Good. There would have to be a debate amongst all the stewards. So when do we do that? And, of course, we have to keep it secret.”

“If I may say, Chairman, we have considered these issues. The proposal is that we have one of the photon communication devices linked to the trigger. We keep Project Daybreak ultrasecret until we have the weapon in place. Then—and only then—are the high stewards convened, told the details, and the decision taken. If it's an okay, the message can be relayed instantly.”

“And the deed is done.”
What a terrifying decision
.

The commander gave a terse nod.

“But supposing we have had a treaty with the Dominion by then?”

“We will build in a self-destruct mechanism.”

A gust of wind lashed rain against the window.

“So you want me to approve the making and launching of this weapon. Without consultation?”

Seymour looked awkward. “Ideally, Chairman, we would prefer a full debate. But we cannot afford any hint of this bomb being leaked out. We don't think the Dominion can duplicate it, but we don't want to take the risk. We see no political issue in putting the weapon in place, only in using it. I suggest you read the report and get back to me as soon as possible with your recommendation.”

“I suppose that on the basis that the weapon could not actually be fired without a debate, I could give you approval for its making and launching.
Theoretically.
” Ethan shook his head. “I don't like this. We are here to create, not destroy.”

“As the prebendant said last week, ‘We fight shy of the idea of destruction, but even gardeners must sometimes destroy.'”

“I heard that. But—”

“Chairman—” Seymour leaned forward in his chair—“let me remind you of the evaluation we discussed last week.”

I knew this would surface; it scared us then, and it scares me now.

“Based on the data from the
Dove
and the speed with which we are building up our weapons, we have a problem. If the Dominion arrives within the next twelve months, we cannot hope to stop them. In the twelve months after that, we
may
be able to hold them off awhile. Only in the twelve months after
that
do we have any real chance of winning.”

“I know. I don't argue with the diagnosis. But I don't want this.” He tapped the report.

“No one does. But we ended the Rebellion with a bomb. This is the scaled-up version.”

“I don't like it.”

The window rattled as another squall of rain struck it.

“Chairman, let me tell you, off the record, what's likely to happen if the Dominion fleet appears at Bannermene in the next month and starts moving inward. Assuming the data on the
Dove
is accurate and not propaganda, we haven't got a hope. We'd destroy maybe 5 or 10 percent of their forces. They'll be here in a month, even if we throw every ship we have at them. It'll not be the Lamb and Stars blowing in the wind here; it will be the snake of the Dominion.”

“The Final Emblem; that's what they call it.”

“The soldiers call it ‘the snake.' Anyway, that's my private opinion. I hope I'm wrong. I have a daughter and a son-in-law out there. But I don't think I am.”

“The Lord delivered Farholme.”

There was an uncomfortable silence. “True. We are told, though, that they lost around three thousand men, women, and children out of a population of three million. One in a thousand. Scale up those losses across the Assembly . . .”

“About a billion dead.”
How can I say that without shuddering?

“And, Chairman, I don't know how to compute divine intervention into military planning. History has shown that to rely on God in battle can often be rather disastrous. We have to plan on the possibility that he may choose not to intervene.” He gestured to the folder. “This is why we need to move on this bomb. It may be the one thing that will save us.”