All eyes turned toward Councilor Albedo. It was a perfect projection; he sat in his chair amongst the others, his hands curled on the armrests in a relaxed fashion; there was none of the haziness or see-through common to mobile projections. His face was long, with high cheekbones and a mobile mouth which suggested a hint of a sardonic smile even at the most serious of moments. This was a serious moment.
No, CEO, said Councilor Albedo, the Advisory Croup was not asked to assess Ouster strength.
Gladstone nodded. I assumed, she said, still addressing Morpurgo, that when the FORCE intelligence estimates came in, they incorporated the Councils projections.
The FORCE:ground General glared at Albedo. No maam, he said. Since the Core acknowledges no contact with the Ousters, we felt that their projections wouldnt be any better than our own. We did use the OCS:HTN aggregate AI network to run our assessments. He thrust the foreshortened cigar back into his mouth. His chin jutted. When he spoke, it was around the cigar. Could the Council have done better?
Gladstone looked at Albedo.
The Councilor made a small motion with the long fingers of his right hand. Our estimates for this Swarm suggested four to six thousand fighting units.
You began Morpurgo, his face red.
You did not mention this during the briefing, said CEO Gladstone. Nor during our earlier deliberations.
Councilor Albedo shrugged. The General is correct, he said. We have no contact with the Ousters. Our estimates are no more reliable than forces, merely based upon different premises. The Olympus Command School Historical Tactical Network does excellent work.
If the AIs there were one order of acuity higher on the TuringDemmler scale, we would have to bring them into the Core. He made the graceful gesture with his hand again. As it is, the Councils premises might be of use for future planning. We will, of course, turn over all projections to this group at any time.
Gladstone nodded. Do so immediately.
She turned back to the screen, and the others did so also. Sensing the silence, the room monitors brought the speaker volume back up, and once again we could hear the cries of victory, screams for help, and calm recitation of positions, fire-control directions, and commands.
The closest wall was a real-time feed from the torchship HS Ndjamena as it searched for survivors among the tumbling remnants of Battle Group B.5. The damaged torchship it was approaching, magnified a thousand times, looked like a pomegranate burst from the inside, its seeds and red rind spilling in slow motion, tumbling into a cloud of particles, gases, frozen volatiles, a million microelectronics ripped from their cradles, food stores, tangled gear, andrecognizable now and then from their marionette tumble of arms or legsmany, many bodies.
The Ndyamenas searchlight, ten meters wide after its coherent leap of twenty thousand miles, played across the starlit frozen wreckage, bringing individual items, facets, and faces into focus. It was quite beautiful in a terrible way. The reflected light made Gladstones face look much older.
Admiral, she said, is it pertinent that the Swarm waited until Task Force 87.2 translated in-system?
Singh touched his beard. Are you asking if it was a trap, CEO?
Yes.
The Admiral glanced at his colleagues and then at Gladstone. I think not. We believe I believe that when the Ousters saw the intensity of our force commitment, they responded in kind. It does mean, however, that they are totally resolved to take Hyperion system.
Can they do it? asked Gladstone, her eyes still on the tumbling wreckage above her. A young mans body, half in a spacesuit and half out, tumbled toward the camera. The burst eyes and lungs were clearly visible.
No, said Admiral Singh. They can bloody us. They can even drive us back to a totally defensive perimeter around Hyperion itself. But they cannot defeat us or drive us out.
Or destroy the farcaster? Senator Richeaus voice was taut.
Nor destroy the farcaster, said Singh.
Hes right, said General Morpurgo. Id stake my professional career on it.
Gladstone smiled and
stood. The others, including myself, rushed to stand also. You have, Gladstone said softly to Morpurgo. You have. She looked around. We will meet here when events warrant it. M. Hunt will be my liaison with you. In the meantime, gentlemen and ladies, the work of government shall proceed. Good afternoon.
As the others left, I took my seat again until I was the only one left in the room. The speakers came back up to volume. On one band, a man was crying. Manic laughter came through static. Above me, behind me, on both sides, the starfields moved slowly against blackness, and the starlight glinted coldly on wreckage and ruin.
Government House was constructed in the shape of a Star of David, and within the center of the star, shielded by low walls and strategically planted trees, there was a garden: smaller than the formal acres of flowers in Deer Park but no less beautiful. I was walking there as evening fell, the brilliant blue-white of Tau Ceti fading to golds, when Meina Gladstone approached.