government, Councilor. Nor would I be surprised if it’s offered to the Conclave itself by the end of the sur.”
“We don’t know if this information is reliable, is what you’re telling me.”
“What I’ve read of it—which has been the most recent events, primarily—seems accurate,” Hado said. “It explains at the very least why we’ve been losing trade and cargo ships, and how the Colonial Union has been using them against us.”
“It might not surprise you to know that the Colonial Union has maintained their own civilian ships have been pirated.”
“I won’t deny I am not fond of humanity, but that isn’t to say that I think they are stupid,” Hado said. “Of course they would be doing a magnificent job of obfuscating their plans.”
“And what are their plans, Representative Hado?” I asked.
“The destruction of the Conclave, obviously,” Hado said. “They tried and failed at Roanoke Colony. They are trying again by using our own trade ships against us.”
“At that rate they should topple us at about the same time as the heat death of the universe,” I said.
“It’s not the physical damage. It’s persisting despite the obvious strength of the Conclave.”
“And attacking Earth Station?” I said. “How does that relate to the Conclave?”
“The Colonial Union has denied the attack. Who else should Earth think could orchestrate it?”
“But you don’t want the humans in the Conclave in any event.”
“Neither do I want Earth reconciled with the Colonial Union, offering it soldiers and colonists again.”
“In which case I’m not sure why you would oppose Earth’s admission into the Conclave,” I said. “That would shut the door to the Colonial Union using it as a recruiting station.”
“And frustrate the Colonial Union even further, making them more dangerous,” Hado said. “And aside from that, how would we ever be able to trust any humans? If one group of humans were at war with us and the other our ally, how many of our so-called allies would feel obliged, by species solidarity, to act against our interests?”
“So we are damned if we admit the humans, and damned if we don’t.”
“There is a third option,” Hado said.
I stiffened at this. “You know the general’s opinion on preemptive war, Representative Hado,” I said. “And on genocide.”
“Please, Councilor,” Hado said. “I am suggesting neither, obviously. I am suggesting, however, that war with the humans is inevitable. Sooner or later they will attack, out of opportunism or out of fear.” He pointed to the data module. “The information here makes that much clear. And when they do, if the general does not have a response, then I fear what happens next for the Conclave.”
“The Conclave is robust,” I said.
“Again, it’s not the physical damage to the Conclave I worry about. The Conclave exists because its members are confident in its leader. The general spared the humans once when he could have crushed them. If he does it twice, there comes the legitimate question of why, and for what purpose. And whether his judgment can be relied upon any further.”
“And if the answer is ‘no,’ then I suppose you have an idea of who might take his place,” I said. “To restore this ‘confidence.’”
“You misunderstand me, Councilor,” Hado said. “You always have. You think I have ambitions beyond my station. I assure you I do not. I never have. What I want is what you want, and what the general wants: the Conclave, whole and secure. He has the power to keep it that way. He has the power to destroy it. It all depends on how he deals with the humans. All of them.”
Hado stood, bowed, took a final niti from his bowl, and left.
* * *
“He thinks this is going to be the thing that destroys the Conclave,” Vnac Oi said, holding the data module Unli Hado had given me. I had traveled to its office, in part to get a change of scenery and in part because as the
A. A. Fair (Erle Stanley Gardner)