The Complete Inheritance Trilogy: Star Strike, Galactic Corps, Semper Human. Ian Douglas

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СКАЧАТЬ them, or starships or large space habitats that rode out the nova’s expanding wave front relatively undamaged, or bases hidden inside some sort of long-lived stasis field.” He shrugged. “Endless possibilities. The chances of our going in and actually finding anything like that are remote in the extreme, granted, but the Xul won’t know for sure why we’re there, or what we might find. If they’re as paranoid as our xenosapientologists think they are, they’ll by God have to respond.”

      “I take your point.” The AI hesitated. “It must be comforting to know—or at least to have a good idea—how the enemy will react in a given situation.”

      He grunted. “There are still too damned many variables, and we still just don’t know the Xul well enough to predict how they’ll respond, not with any degree of certainty. The idea of them being xenophobes certainly fits with what we’ve seen of them up until now, as does the idea that they are extremely conservative, and don’t change much, if at all, over large periods of time. But, damn it, we don’t know. They’re still aliens … which means they don’t think the same way we do, don’t see the universe the same way we do, and we’d be arrogance personified if we thought we understood their motives or their worldview at this point in time.”

      “But this gives us a starting point,” Cara observed.

      “That it does,” Alexander agreed. “I’m actually more concerned—”

      “Just a moment,” Cara said, interrupting. “Just a moment. …”

      Alexander waited. He knew the AI well enough to recognize that she was momentarily distracted by something entering her electronic purview. Whatever it was, it had to be a very large something to so completely monopolize her awareness, even for just a few seconds.

      “General McCulloch’s EA is requesting connect time,” Cara told him. “Will you accept?”

      “Damn it, Cara, when the Commandant of the Marine Corps requests an electronic conversation with a mere lieutenant general …” Alexander replied, letting the statement trail off.

      “Will you accept?”

      He sighed. AIs could be narrowly literal to the point of obsession. “Of course I will.”

      “General McCulloch’s EA states that the general will be on-line momentarily, and to please hold.”

      “Then I guess we’ll hold.

      “Give me a quick update,” he told the AI. “I’m actually a lot more concerned about the PanEuropeans and how they’re reacting to the political situation than I am about the Xul right now. Is there anything new this morning on NetNews?”

      “I’ve prepared your regular daily digest, which you can download at your convenience,” Cara told him. “Two hundred ninety-five articles and postings concerning the PanEuropean crisis. Most of those are classified as opinion pieces or commentary, and most tend to be alarmist or sensationalist in nature.”

      “Nothing I need to be briefed on before I talk to the commandant?”

      “In my estimation, no.”

      “The usual crap, then.” He sighed. “Why do we have more trouble understanding ourselves and those like us than we do entities as alien as the Xul?”

      “Human history suggests that this has always been a factor in human politics.”

      “Mm. Yes. Agreed.”

      “I am opening a virtual room for your conference with General McCulloch.”

      “Thank you.” Alexander felt the familiar, lightly tingling surge across his scalp as the external reality of his office on board Skybase was swept away, replaced by a star-strewn void. The poly-lobed sprawl of human space filled his visual field; Puller 659, near the outer fringes of PE space, was highlighted as an unnaturally brilliant white beacon, outshining the strew of other stars.

      “It appears General McCulloch is concerned about PanEuropean reaction if 1MIEF enters Republic space,” Cara told him.

      Alexander snorted. “I’m concerned that we’re, both of us, Republic and Commonwealth, acting like apes around the water hole, thumping our chests, shrieking and grimacing at each other, and all the while the leopard is watching from the underbrush, getting ready to pounce. We should be working together, damn it, working toward the common cause, not clawing at each other’s throats.”

      “Again, this appears to be a common pattern in human history. I submit that it represents a hard-wired feature of human psychology, and no doubt derives from the pre-tribal evolutionary period you refer to. Humans are apes, remember, and still possess the ape’s instincts regarding territory, protectiveness, threat, and strangers.”

      “Tell me about it.” He realized Cara would take his words literally, and hastily added, “Belay that. Don’t tell me. The question is whether or not we’re going to have to go to war with the PanEuropean Republic in order to force them to help us against the Xul.”

      “Would their cooperation be worth the effort?” Cara asked.

      “Good question. They have a large fleet, and we’re going to need warships, both to protect the home front, and to carry out 1MIEF’s long-range mission. Their ground forces aren’t as good as ours, though.” He didn’t add that PE planetary assault units in particular didn’t measure up to U.S. Marine standards. “But the stargates they control could be the key to hurting the Xul. Especially the Puller Gate … and Starwall. There’s also the alert flashed from Tomanaga’s LP. That, I imagine, is what General McCulloch is going to want to discuss.”

      “I have an incoming data feed from his EA, which I’ve been processing as we speak,” Cara told him. “It includes intelligence reports concerning PanEuropean fleet elements and activities within the Puller 659 system, which supports your supposition.” There was a brief hesitation. “Channel opening from General McCulloch.”

      And General Vinton McCulloch appeared, his icon bright with his official corona flammae, his full-dress uniform bright with luminous decorations and awards. “Good morning, General,” McCulloch said, voice gravel-rough. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

      “Not at all, sir.” In fact, Alexander suspected that the higher the rank, the more you needed to keep subordinates waiting, just to keep them aware of who they were dealing with.

      “We have a final go from the Senate,” McCulloch said. “It was damned close, but Operation Lafayette has been approved.”

      “Lafayette?”

      “Obscure historical reference, I’m told—‘Lafayette, we are here.’ Don’t ask me. I just work here.”

      “But we’re going in to get our people.”

      “Ay-firmative.”

      “When?”

      “Riki-damned-tick. As soon as you can get an assault team together.”

      “I’ve tapped the 55th MARS,” Alexander told him. “They’re only just back from Alighan, but that means they haven’t scattered to the four corners yet. The platoon COs СКАЧАТЬ