“I quite agree,” said Klyber. “Admiral Barry had no reason to anticipate the attack on the Chayio.” He leaned back in his chair, laced his fingers, and spoke in a calming voice like a mediator who had come to settle a squabble among friends. “As I read this, it appears that the reality of the Atkins threat is finally showing itself. Admiral Barry was only briefed about hostilities with the Yamashiro government.”
“Atkins?” asked the member of the Linear Committee.
“We’ve all seen the record; those destroyers broadcast themselves to the scene,” Klyber said. “Did you look at the design of those ships?”
“I’d need clearer pictures,” the Committee member said. “I saw your notes; but after all of these years, I can’t believe it.”
“Fair enough,” Admiral Klyber said. “But we do agree that those ships are of an obsolete U.A. design and manufacture? I am sure we agree that this was not an extragalactic attack.”
The faces in the television screen nodded in agreement.
“We know that the Mogat population vanished after the attack on our platoon,” Klyber continued. “A number of ships launched during the attack on the Chayio. Intelligence traced that launch to an uninhabited island. It seems safe to assume that the separatists massed on that island as they planned their escape.”
“I am aware of that, Admiral,” Huang hissed. “If those ships came from the GC Fleet, they would be hopelessly outdated.”
“Not necessarily,” Klyber said. “The Kamehameha was commissioned before we began exploring the Galactic Eye. They may have updated their ships just as we reoutfitted this one.” He shot a furtive grin at Vice Admiral Barry, who fidgeted nervously and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.
“So how do we proceed, assuming those ships were from the GC Fleet?” asked the member of the Linear Committee.
“There were hundreds of ships in that fleet,” Klyber pointed out.
“Even if they reoutfitted it, I don’t think the GC Fleet would be much of a threat,” Huang said. “Not against a modern navy.
“The GC Fleet was a one-dimensional fleet designed for invasions, not ship-to-ship combat. It did not have frigates or carriers. It will be helpless against fighters.” No one seemed interested in Huang’s opinion, however.
“Perhaps we’d better double the patrols guarding the broadcast system,” said the general from the Air Force.
“Would there be any way to track the fleet’s movements?” asked the Committee member.
Klyber shook his head. “Once we get a psychological profile of whoever is commanding the fleet, we may be able to predict his steps. For now, the best we can do is to go on alert.”
The Army general sighed. “It’s the enemy that you can’t see…”
“Do you think Crowley is behind this?” asked the Committee member.
“I’ve put a great deal of thought into this,” Klyber said. “Crowley has a mind for tactics, but he has no skill for coalition building. He is no politician. If a civil war is brewing, Crowley will need allies…political allies.”
The Army general smiled. “Thank God Morgan Atkins is dead.”
“Atkins?” asked Admiral Barry.
“Is he?” Klyber said. “I don’t know how we can rule Atkins out of the picture.”
“My God, he would have to be a hundred years old,” Barry said.
“I never call them dead until I see a tag on their feet,” said Huang, who clearly enjoyed needling Barry on every topic.
“With the right ambassador, Crowley won’t have any trouble finding plenty of support in the House of Representatives,” said Klyber. “We will need to observe how the politics play themselves out in the House. Crowley’s allies will expose themselves sooner or later.”
“If he’s tied in with Atkins, he’ll have lieutenants on every planet,” the member of the Linear Committee observed.
“We must choose our next step wisely,” Huang said. It seemed like he was trying to regain control of the conversation by reviewing what everyone else said. “If you are right, Admiral Klyber, we have no way of knowing where or when Crowley will strike.”
“What do we do about Ezer Kri?” Barry asked.
“We should make an example of Ezer Kri,” said Huang, the faces in the monitors nodding their agreement. “Blast the planet until nothing is left. We cannot show any weakness in this situation.”
Admiral Klyber leaned forward, placed his hands palms down on the table and took a deep breath. “If that is the consensus.”
Huang made a weary sigh. “You have other ideas, Admiral Klyber?”
“The Mogat Separatists have already abandoned the planet, and the rest of the population seems sufficiently loyal to the Unified Authority. Governor Yamashiro is a smart politician; he knows he’s in a fix.”
“We cannot afford to appear weak,” Huang said. “If we let Ezer Kri get away with attacking a U.A. ship, other planets will follow.”
“Of course,” Klyber said. “But we have already agreed that the attacking ships did not launch from Ezer Kri. Destroy the planet now, and you will only kill innocents. What kind of lesson is that?”
“And your suggestion?” asked the Committee member.
“Once we have captured the people responsible for the attacks, we return them to Ezer Kri for public trial and execution on their own home planet.”
“We’ll look like fools if they get off,” said Huang.
“Rest assured,” Klyber said, “these terrorists will be found guilty. We will see to it.”
“Found guilty on their home planet; I like it,” said the Committee member.
“Absalom Barry is a capable officer,” Admiral Klyber said, as we walked back across the empty lobby toward his office. “He lacks vision, but he runs an efficient fleet. When I was transferred to Scutum-Crux, I put in a request for him.”
I had not asked about Barry. I never asked one superior officer about another; such inquiries inevitably came back to haunt you.
We entered a short hall that led to Klyber’s office—a surprisingly small room with a shielded-glass wall overlooking the rear of the Kamehameha. The galaxy seemed to start just behind the admiral’s desk. While trying to speak with him, I constantly found myself distracted by the view of Ezer Kri or a passing frigate. His desk faced away from that observation wall, and, disciplined as he was, I doubted that the admiral turned back to look out often.
“Please, sit down,” Klyber said. As he spoke, he picked up a folder that was on his desk. He studied it for a moment, then looked at me. “Our work on Ezer Kri is just about finished. I’ll be glad to leave.”
I said nothing.
“Corporal Harris, we’re going to take on an important visitor over the next few days. The secretary of the Navy will be joining us. He has a mission he would like to conduct. In order for Huang’s mission to succeed, we will need to draw upon your particular abilities.”
“Sir?” I said, sounding foolish.
Klyber took a deep breath and leaned forward on his desk, his gray eyes staring straight into mine. “You grew up in an orphanage, Corporal?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What did they tell you about the cloning process?”
Just hearing an admiral mention the word “clone” left me dizzy. I knew he had not brought me there for a casual chat. I felt a prickling sensation on my back and arms. Clenching the arms of my chair, I felt nervous, genuinely nervous.
“The teachers never discussed cloning,” I said. “I heard rumors; we talked about it when the teachers weren’t around.”
Without releasing me from that intense stare, Klyber leaned back in his chair again. He picked up a pen in his right hand and tapped it against the palm of his left. “Tell me about the rumors.”
I pried my eyes from his for a moment and stared out through the viewport behind him. I could see Ezer Kri, a blue-and-green globe with patches of clouds. I could see a frigate off in the distance. Far off in space, I could see the star that was the system’s sun. “They never know they are clones,” I said, fighting to take control of my emotions. I was not a clone. I had nothing to fear. “They can’t see it. Two clones can stand side by side looking into the same mirror and not see that they look alike.” I knew that—I saw it every day.