Trevor shrugged. “The Arat Kur haven’t moderated their initial terms of surrender. In fact, they’ve put in an additional requirement.”
Downing grimaced. “So what do they want now?”
Trevor seemed to repeat the new demand from memory. “‘The World Confederation must hold a species-wide referendum to officially confirm or reject it as humanity’s legitimate government.’”
Elena made a disgusted noise. “Do they have any conception of just how long it will take to solicit a complete global vote?”
“Not just global,” Trevor corrected, “speciate. Their requirement specifically extends to offworld colonies.”
“But it would take a whole year just to get the notification to Zeta Tucanae, and another year to get the results back here.”
“That’s right—and they know it. Believe me, they know it.”
Opal was frowning. “Then what are they trying to do with a condition like that? Sabotage the peace process before it gets started?”
Downing nodded. “That’s exactly what they’re trying to do.”
“But if they push us too far—”
“Then what? At this point, how can we threaten them? Their air interdiction of Indonesia is absolute, as we learned when we tried to contest their ‘invited’ landings near the Indonesian mass-driver. One hundred seventy-eight combat aircraft and interface vehicles lost with all crews. Chinese, Australian, Japanese, a few American craft out of Guam: it didn’t make a difference. The best Arat Kur visible light lasers can reach right down to sea level with enough force to instantly take down any air vehicle in our inventory, even the armored deltas. And a maritime counterinvasion would be even worse. You’ve seen on the news what happens when an unauthorized ship crosses over the fifty-kilometer no-sail limit they imposed around Java.”
Opal nodded. “A hail of kinetic-kill devices from orbit and down she goes to Davy Jones’ locker.”
Elena looked around the room. “So that’s it? We’re just going to give up?”
And again, all eyes drifted toward Trevor. He shook his head. “No, we are not giving up.”
Downing found he was exhaling in relief. “Then what message is Ching going to send in answer to the Arat Kur and Hkh’Rkh demands?”
Trevor looked at him. “Nothing.”
Chapter Sixteen
Richard heard Elena’s response as a chorus with his own. “Nothing?”
Trevor nodded. “Despite the global panic, the World Confederation Council sees our current situation as a standoff. With the Arat Kur controlling orbital space, we can’t fight back effectively. But on the ground, the Arat Kur know they’ve got a tiger by the tail. And as the militarily weaker power, a stalemate is actually to our advantage. So we force them to make the next move.”
Downing nodded. “And if they overreact by extending their attacks to the larger landmasses, they will lose even more control of the planetside situation.”
Elena frowned. “Really? So if the current level of panic isn’t enough to compel us to surrender, why won’t they just start bombing our cities, one after the other?”
Trevor answered before Downing could. “Couple of reasons. First, even if they do that, the invaders only have enough ground forces to control a dozen or so key points in Indonesia. And even there, they’re already having a harder time than they thought. Secondly, it’s not in their political interests to widen the war in any way. As long as they’re after a settlement rather than conquest, it won’t play well across the globe. And if they can’t secure their gains directly, then when—or maybe ‘if’—the Dornaani show up, the invaders will suddenly be the ones without any bargaining power, without anything to give back in exchange for either concessions or clemency.”
Downing smiled. “And although all reports indicate that the Hkh’Rkh are excellent assault troops, the first signs indicate that they will be a dreadful occupation force.”
Elena nodded. “From that one social event we shared with them on the Convocation Station, it was pretty clear that they lack the patience for endless rounds of guard duty and garrison tasks.”
Trevor jumped in again. “Not only that. From what I heard in the Oval Office, the few mixed exosapient units that are providing ‘security support’ for CoDevCo’s Indonesian mass driver aren’t working together so well. Specifically, the Arat Kur are already having severe problems keeping a leash on Hkh’Rkh in the counterinsurgency role. For the Hkh’Rkh, war is waged by and against clearly designated combatants. Everyone else is presumed—and encouraged—to make every attempt to evacuate the area of engagement. So when guerrilla units have hit the Hkh’Rkh, they want to strike back—not just hard, but brutally. For them, sneak attacks mounted by insurgents who fade back into the population are acts of cowardice and implicit treachery that warrant full reprisals.”
“Such as?”
“Such as annihilation of any town that seems to have concealed, aided, or abetted the guerillas.”
“And by annihilation, you mean—?”
“Men. Women. Children. Kittens. Everything. With bombs or bayonets: it’s all the same to the Hkh’Rkh. They’ve been protecting the mass driver site for less than forty-eight hours, and already there are reports of nearby kempangs—villages—completely wiped off the map.”
Downing stared at the date and time stripe as the bottom of his palmcomp. “And those Indonesian guerillas are going to become more active with every passing day.”
“Because of the atrocities?” Elena asked.
“No,” interjected Opal with a malicious smile, “because of the weather. The one time I did mission prep for that part of the world was sixty years ago, but I doubt monsoon season has changed that much.” She leaned back, stared at the ceiling as the information rolled out of her. “More than a centimeter of rain every day, and when it comes down, it comes down in sheets. Temperature rarely gets under eighty, keeping the humidity at eighty-five percent or higher. Thermal and IR gear is degraded. The ambient noise background is messy. Mud everywhere.” She folded her arms. “Bottom line, if you were born there, or in a similar climate in Southeast Asia, you’re used to it, know how to use it to your advantage. If you’re a newb, you are in deep shit.” Still looking at the ceiling, or maybe through it to the orbiting ships overhead, she grinned viciously. “Welcome to Earth, you alien bastards.”
Trevor smiled, but Elena was nodding thoughtfully. “All of which means that the Hkh’Rkh will be more frustrated, and so more harsh and frequent in their reprisals. But the Arat Kur know that images depicting ‘ruthless alien invaders’ slaughtering women and children will destroy any chance of keeping even a small minority of humans interested in a ‘peace process.’”
Trevor’s nod was one of grim, vengeful satisfaction. “Or willing to accept new leadership.”
Opal turned her gaze down from the ceiling. “What do you mean?”
“I mean the megacorporations. All the bloc leaders believe that the Arat Kur demand for a speciate referendum to approve the World Confederation is a backdoor move to effect a global regime change, one that puts the megacorporations—CoDevCo in particular—in charge. And once they are in control, the fear is that they won’t bother to raise an army to impose their will. They’ll make one.”
“You mean clones?” Elena asked. “They’ve already started breaking those laws, from what I hear.”
Downing nodded. “Former finance minister Ruap’s antibloc politics wasn’t the only thing which made the Arat Kur eager to see him holding power in Indonesia. It was his extremely cozy relationship with Astor-Smath and CoDevCo.” He shook his head. “Which means the Arat Kur had all this planned before they loaded their invasion fleet. Even before we all went to the Convocation.”