Book 3 - Star's End Read Free Page B

have decided,” said the Star Lord of
the Marine Toke Legion.
    “He speaks for Toke,” his non-Service superior
added. “For Toke there can be but one decision. We will come
to them here. Alone if we have to.”
    “It’s not that easy for me, Manfred,” Melene
said. “We’re an adventurous species but I’m
handicapped by democratic traditions and faith in peace. We
don’t organize quickly or well.”
    Von Staufenberg chuckled. “You did before.”
    The Defender was older than he. She had been a soldier
throughout the Ulantonid War.
    “I expect we will again. We can do anything when we decide
to pull together. It’s the decision process that’s so
abominably slow.”
    “Your decisions were made years ago, Melene,”
Beckhart growled from his radar boards. “Don’t try to
snow us. I can give you the names and hull numbers of a hundred new
construction ships you’ve got tucked away in places you never
thought we’d look.”
    “Admiral Beckhart?” von Staufenberg queried.
    “I have my sources, sir. They’re rearming as fast as
their shipbuilding industry can space hulls. They come off the line
looking like commercial ships, only they’ve got drive
potential up the yang-yang, and they never get delivered to any of
the transport outfits. They disappear for a while, then turn up
somewhere else with guns dripping off them.”
    “Why wasn’t High Command informed of this,
Beckhart?”
    “Because my sources are in the Defender’s office.
And I knew why they were rearming. You wouldn’t have bought
it. Half of High Command is still trying to refight the Ulantonid
War. I let it go on playing that game because people were seeing
enough of those new ships to get nervous and start us a secret
building program of our own. So we’re on our way
too.”
    “Beckhart . . . Your logic baffles me.
Totally baffles me. I have the distinct feeling that you’ll
have to explain it to a Board of Inquiry. What else have you hidden
from us?”
    “You want an honest answer, or one that will please
you?” Beckhart did not make many friends. He retained his
position principally because no one else could do his job as
well.
    “Beckhart!”
    “Several things, sir. Ongoing operations. If they work
out, we’ll be in good shape for meeting these
monsters.”
    “Monsters?” Melene demanded. “There’s no
evidence . . . ”
    “Melene, the Admiral is a xenophobe. In fact, he
doesn’t like people very much. Tell me what you’re
doing, Beckhart.”
    “There’s a chance I’m on the threshold to the
solution of the Sangaree problem. Some new data was on its way in
before we left. I’ll probably want to borrow von Drachau
again.”
    “What else?”
    “Still too tentative for discussion. A possible
breakthrough in communications and weapons technologies. I
won’t discuss it now. Not here.”
    “Beckhart . . . ”
    “Security privilege. Sir. Log it if you like.”
    Von Staufenberg wheeled on the Director of Naval Intelligence.
She shrugged. “You won’t get anything from me, either,
Manfred.”
    “Damn! All right, let’s get moving. Time’s
running out, and everybody’s got to have a look at
this.”
    Cumbers were the most cramped vessels since Gemini. Circulating
the forty-odd beings aboard was a slow, uncomfortable process.
    “She’s about to start shooting,” Beckhart said
of the nearest destroyer. “She has. Missile swarm. We have
four minutes to hide.”
    “How do you like that? Didn’t even try to find out
who we were or what we wanted.”
    “This is the Ship’s Commander,” von
Staufenberg said into the public address system. “We’re
under fire. Engineering, stand by to go Null.” Thirty seconds
before the swarm arrived, he ordered, “Take her up to ten
Bev. First Watch Officer, a gesture is in order. Program me an
attack approach on the vessel shooting at us.”
    The Ulantonid’s feathery antennae stirred, quivered. The
action was comparable to a human’s pleased chuckle.
    The