“I feel old,” Tan said.
“There is another possibility,” Circe said.
“Tell me.”
“We have five weeks before the wreckers strike. We could load every liner and tanker with Jovians and journey to Mars or Earth.”
“Evacuate the Jupiter System?” whispered Tan.
“For now,” Circe said. “The idea would be to save as many people and ships as possible. It would have the added benefit of uniting the Guardian Fleet with the others of the Alliance.”
Tan studied the Sub-Strategist. “Do you suggest this because it is the best idea, or do you wish to reunite with Marten Kluge in the Earth System?”
Circe shook her head. “I do not know. Whenever I think about Marten Kluge, all else fades from my thoughts. I desire his arms around me, that he peel off my clothes and—” Circe looked stricken. “Excuse me, Chief Strategist. I—”
“No excuses, Circe. I sent you against Kluge as a weapon. I should have known better. The man is a killer and amazingly resilient against any who wish him harm. You suffered because I hated the idea of his…well, it doesn’t matter now. That was then and now we have to face these eight projectiles. I do not like the idea of fleeing our ancestral home. We must stand our ground.”
Circe looked away.
“I have grown weary of the Advisor of Europa,” Tan said, with her eyes half-lidded. It was so hard to think, but she recalled that the man had been a constant irritant. The idea that he should survive while those of Ganymede perished—no! He was an insufferable toad. “Europa’s domes and cities lie deep under the ice. Perhaps they can survive the wreckers.”
“That is extremely unlikely,” Circe said.
“You speak the truth. They will die, but some of the industries might survive.” Tan shrugged listlessly.
For a time, the two women stared at the eight projectiles.
“With the choice of which moon to defend decided,” Circe finally said, “there is a more delicate question.”
“You agree with me then that we should save Ganymede?”
“Force-Leader Yakov was from Ganymede,” Circe said.
“Why is that important?”
Circe blushed. “It isn’t.”
“Ah,” said Tan. “Yakov was Marten Kluge’s friend.”
“Marten thought very highly of Yakov,” Circe said.
“We all did,” Tan said. “And that is as good a reason as any to save Ganymede. Force-Leader Yakov gave his life to save our civilization. We will now choose to save the moon that gave us such a selfless guardian. I approve of your reasoning.”
Circe gave Tan a sidelong glance. “I spoke of a delicate issue a moment ago. We still have not broached it. The Advisor of Europa is forceful and given to threats. He might do more than protest your decision.”
Tan nodded. She realized that. She should have been the one to bring it up, but she couldn’t do it.
“Given his emotional make-up,” Circe said. “I suggest we take away the Advisor’s ability to affect our decision.”
Tan’s mouth was dry. Once she spoke these words, she would begin a terrible sequence of events. With her tongue, she moistened the inside of her mouth. “What do you suggest?”
“We must neutralize his ability to harm the Guardian Fleet,” Circe said. “To speak plainly, we must ensure that he never uses the defensive satellites orbiting Europa to launch missiles at our ships.”
“That would be an irrational act on his part,” Tan said.
“I have studied his psychological profile. The man is irrational and unstable.”
“I have also found him irritating,” Tan admitted.
“There are two meteor-ships in orbit around Europa,” Circe said. “I suggest you launch an immediate space marine assault against the defensive satellites or use bombs to incapacitate them.”
“If we did that it would destroy their ability to deflect the wreckers.”
“Europa has insufficient military hardware to deflect them,” Circe said. “Their only possibility of affecting the outcome of the situation is vengeance against us.”
Tan recoiled at the idea of leaving Europa defenseless against the enemy. It was monstrous and she would have no part in it. The horror of the suggestion revived her spirits and cut through the despair.
She turned to Circe. “What if Europa used all their liners and tankers, building up velocity and crashing them against the moon-wreckers? Before impact, they would have to launch weapons to disable each wrecker’s engine ports so the asteroids could not make any course corrections.”
On her pad, Circe began to compute the odds. After a time, she looked up. “They would need to send the ships now. The farther away from Jupiter they nudge the asteroids—provided they can knock out the engine ports—the less mass is needed for success.”
“The problem is that cyborg lasers would likely destroy such space-liners and tankers,” Tan said. “And who would crew the suicide vessels?”
“It wouldn’t necessarily have to be suicide. Skeleton crews could guide the ships, leaving at the last moment by a shuttle and escaping the impact.”
“And falling victim to cyborg lasers,” Tan said.
“The Guardian Fleet would need to join in the assault,” Circe said, “engaging the moon-wreckers in battle. We would attempt to mimic the Highborn and Earthlings as they attacked the Saturn-launched wreckers.”
Tan bit her lip, worried again about the leader of Europa. “If only the Advisor were a rational man.”
“The answer is obvious. You must assassinate him.”
“Who will take his place?” Tan asked.
“Hopefully someone more malleable,” Circe said.
“And if he or she does not view the matter as we do?”
“There are many imponderables,” Circe said, “too many to calculate. We must fight. We must give our system the likeliest chance for survival. Our two asteroids will target the Ganymede wreckers, shepherded to the point of contact by the Guardian Fleet. The people of Europa can do as they wish with their space-liners, tankers and defensive satellites—provided they don’t attack us. Perhaps we can convince them to transfer to Ganymede.”
“There are not enough spaceships to complete a transfer in time.”
“It would save many more lives, however.”
Tan stared at the holoimages, at the faint stellar objects. She was the Chief Strategist. She should devise a strategy for the greatest number of survivors. This certainty of the Advisor’s emotionalism—
“No,” Tan whispered.
“Chief Strategist?” Circe asked.
“I cannot order the Advisor’s assassination,” Tan said. “Neither can I use space marines or myrmidons to denude Europa of a fighting chance. I will have to take a leap of faith on the Advisor’s humanity.”
“He has not shown good faith in the past,” Circe said.
“He has not faced extinction before.” Tan leaned forward, letting her forehead sink against her hands. “I don’t know what to do. The decisions…they are too heavy for me. We are facing the end of our hard-built civilization.”
“Then let us show the Solar System our superiority by facing doom like the philosophers we are,” Circe said. “We lived with equanimity and we shall die the same way.”
Tan looked up. “That isn’t how Marten Kluge faced the cyborgs.”
Circe’s serenity faded as her features twisted. She stood abruptly, strode toward the holoimages and then turned around. “Here is my advice. Call the Advisor. Tell him our decision. Let us see how he acts. If he is a Jovian, he will act with calm and we may yet defeat the moon-wreckers. If he panics…” Circe shrugged.