"Of course I understand, Ivan. Whatever you think, I'm not senile yet. I only mentioned the point because of political factors."
"Political factors?" Antonov started to take on a dangerous look. "What political factors? We're talking about a military decision!"
Humanity had left instantaneous communications (and the tendency to micro-manage military operations to death) on Old Terra, and the Federation had always granted its admirals broad authority to run wars on the Frontier. If it hadn't, it would long ago have been replaced, as a simple matter of natural selection, by a polity that did.
"Remember, Ivan," Anderson said, "this isn't a normal situation. Having gotten us into this mess in the first place, the politicos are still shitting their pants. Once we unmistakably gain the military upper hand, I expect them to turn vindictive; at present, they're merely scared, and they won't respond well to any suggestion of `irresolution' on the military's part! Trust me - I'm talking from seventy years of political experience."
`Experience I don't envy you in the slightest!" Antonov snapped. He visibly controlled himself. `Look, Howard, surely even politicians can understand an elementary matter of military necessity like this - at least after you explain it to them. Can't they?"
Anderson laughed shortly. "Not these fuck-ups. And don't count on my explanations doing much good - at least as far as Waldeck goes. You know he hates me about as much as I do him."
"Suokin sin! Son-of-a-bitch! So the military objective - and the lives of my people - are secondary to enabling gasbags like Sakanami and slime molds like Waldeck to evade the consequences of their own stupidity?"
Anderson gave a theatrical wince. "I do wish you wouldn't say things like that, Ivan! Where's your respect for properly constituted civilian authority?"
Antonov exploded into a spate of Russian, and the little Anderson understood made him just as glad he didn't understand the rest. Finally, the massive admiral calmed down sufficiently to communicate in Standard English.
"Why am I even surprised? Mass democracy! Hal The divine right of political careerists!" He glowered at Anderson. ` Does such a regime even deserve to survive?"
"Hey," Anderson saidT alarmed. "Don't go Russian-nihilistic on me, Ivan! Not now!"
Antonov let out a long breath. "Oh, don't worry, Howard. I'll follow orders. But," he continued grimly, "in order to do so, I need those ships. You'll just have to explain the facts of life to Sakanami and Waldeck and even that cunt Wycliffe." (This time Anderson's wince was sincere.) "If my battle-line has to go into Parsifal without hetlasers, or if I have to wait for the new construction, the losses will make them really shit in their pants." He leaned forward, and his voice dropped even deeper than was its wont. "I need those ships!
"Well," Anderson said mildly after a heartbeat or two, "we'll just have to see what we can do about getting them for you, won't we?"
The cloud-banded blue dot swelled on TFNS Warrior's visual display, and the light cruiser's captain turned to the old man at the assistant gunnery officer's station.
"You know, Admiral, it's eight years since I last saw Old Terra. She sure is pretty, isn't she?"
"Indeed she is, Captain. And thank you for letting me watch. It's been a lot more than eight years since I last saw her from a command deck."
"In that case, Admiral, would you care to take the con?"
Commander Helen Takaharu smiled, and Howard Anderson grinned back like a schoolboy. Then his grin faded.
"No, Captain. Thanks for the offer, but I'm afraid it's been too long. Besides, I'm not really an admiral anymore."
"You'll always be an admiral, sir," Takaharu said softly, "and I'd be honored if you accepted."
Color tinged Anderson's cheeks, but for once he felt no ire. There was no sycophancy in Takaharu's voice. He hesitated.
"Please, sir, I know I speak for Warrior's entire crew."
"Well, in that case, Captain Takaharu," he said gruffly, "the honor will be mine.' He stood, and Takaharu rose from her command chair. "I relieve you, sir," he said.
"I stand relieved," she replied crisply. He settled into her chair, and she moved to stand at his shoulder, her face creased in a huge smile.
"Maneuvering, stand by for orbital insertion."
"Standing by, aye, Admiral," the helmsman replied, and Howard Anderson stroked the command chair's armrests almost reverently.
"Out of the question," Irena Wycliffe said sharply. "Totally out of the question! I'm astonished Admiral An-tonov could suggest such a thing."
Anderson leaned back and looked around the conference room. Hamid O'Rourke looked unhappy and avoided his eyes, and several other ministers fidgeted uncomfortably.
"Ms. Wycliffe," he said at last, "I fail to understand exactly which aspect of the Ministry of Public Welfare qualifies you to nold such a pronounced opinion?"
Wycliffe flushed and glanced angrily at the president. In point of fact, she wasn't expressing her opinion. She was one of Pericles Waldeck's closest supporters, his eyes and ears - and mouth - in the Sakanami Cabinet.
"I may not have your own long - and long ago - military experience, Mister Anderson," she shot back, "but I'm quite conversant with the course of this war! Admiral Antonov held Redwing by the skin of his teeth, and now, when he's finally pushed the Thebans back at last, he wants to weaken his forces? Even I know the thing for the Thebans to do is counterattack as quickly as possible!"
"Ladies and gentlemen, please!" Sakanami intervened mildly. "This is not a question to settle on the basis of personalities." He glanced at both disputants. "I trust I make myself clear?'
Anderson snorted in amusement and nodded. Wycliffe distributed her glare almost impartially between him and the president.
"Now, then," Sakanami continued. "Admiral Antonov is entitled to make his own tactical dispositions. No one disputes that. But I do feel we have a right to question the wisdom of such a fundamental strategic redistribution. Admiral Brandenburg?"
The chief of naval operations was a spare, white-haired man. Seventy years younger than Anderson, he actually looked older as he sat quietly erect in his space-black and silver uniform. Five years as CNO had taught him the tricks of the political jungle, but he'd commanded a task force himself in ISW-3, and he frowned thoughtfully.
"As a rule, Mister President, the commander on the spot usually has a clearer appreciation than GHQ, and Antonov's record to date certainly seems to suggest he knows what he's doing. I suppose there is a possibility of a counterattack, but as I understand it he's not talking about pulling the battle-line back en masse, is he, Howard?"
"No. He wanted to, but I convinced him it'd cause undue concern" - Anderson grinned wryly - "back home. Besides, Fritz, we're heavily committed to the new construction programs. We can only free up the space to handle about a third of his battle-line at a time without disrupting things, so we're talking about a temporary reduction, not a total rollback."
"Indeed?" Wycliffe put in. "But it's actually a two-thirds reduction, isn't it?"
"It is," Anderson agreed with unruffled calm. "One-third of his units will be put into yard hands immediately; the next third will start Iback to Galloway's World when they're finished. They'll pass one another en route, but for some weeks Second Fleet's battle-line will, indeed, be at one-third strength."
"Still," Brandenburg mused, "we're talking about a fleet defending a starless nexus, with no need to mount a warp-point defense."
"Which doesn't mean those ships won't be needed!" Wycliffe turned to Sakanami. "Mister President, such a policy would cause great disquiet in the Assembly. Important people will ask questions."
`Let them," Anderson said coldly.
"Oh, that's a wonderful idea! Wars, Mister Anderson, are not fought only on the front lines - and military people aren't the only ones with a stake in their outcome!"
"No, just the ones who do the dying," Anderson said even more coldly, and Wycliffe jerked back as if he'd slapped her. He pressed his advantage.
`Look, Fritz has already pointed out we've got plenty of depth and no population to defend. Any counterattack will be met with a mobile defense, not a point-blank battle on top of a warp point! Admiral Antonov is confident his fighters can stop any Theban attack cold, and I concur. Fritz?"