Foundation and Empire 6. The Favorite

The tiny ships had appe ard out of the va tint depths and darted into the midst of the Armada. Without a guessing or a burst of energy, they weaved through the ship-swollen area, then blasted on and out, while the lofty wagons turned after them like lumbering beasts. in that location were two noiseless flares that pinpointed space as two of the tiny gnats shrivel in atomic disintegration, and the rest were g angiotensin-converting enzyme.The great ships searched, then returned to their original task, and mankind by ball, the great web of the termination continued.Brodrigs uniform was stately carefully tailored and as carefully worn. His walk through the gardens of the obscure major planet Wanda, now temporary Imperial headquarters, was leisurely his expression was somber.Bel Riose walked with him, his dramaturgy uniform open at the collar, and doleful in its mo nononous gray-black.Riose indicated the flat black bench under the fragrant tree-fern whose large spatulate leave s lifted flatly against the white sun. See that, sir. It is a relic of the Imperium. The orna workforceted benches, built for lovers, lounge about on, fresh and useful, while the factories and the palaces collapse into un recalled ruin.He seated himself, while Cleon IIs cloistered Secretary stood erect out front him and clipped the leaves above neatly with tiny swings of his ivory module.Riose crossed his legs and offered a cigarette to the other. He fingered one himself as he spoke, It is what one would expect from the enlightened wisdom of His Imperial Majesty to send so competent an observer as yourself. It relieves whatsoever anxiety I might have felt that the press of to a greater extent important and more immediate business might perhaps squash into the shadows a small(a) campaign on the Periphery.The eyes of the Emperor are everywhere, said Brodrig, mechanically. We do not underestimate the importance of the campaign thus far still it would seem that too great an emph asis is being rigid upon its difficulty. Surely their critical ships are no such barrier that we must(prenominal) move through the intricate preliminary maneuver of an Enclosure.Riose flushed, but he maintained his equilibrium. I can not risk the lives of my men, who are a few(prenominal) enough, or the destruction of my ships which are irre government agencyable, by a too-rash attack. The establishment of an Enclosure allow quarter my casualties in the ultimate attack, howsoever difficult it be. The soldiers reasons for that I took the liberty to explain yesterday. soundly, advantageously, I am not a military man. In this case, you assure me that what seems patently and obviously right is, in reality, wrong. We willing allow that. Yet your caution shoots far beyond that. In your turn communication, you requested reinforcements. And these, against an enemy poor, small, and barbarous, with whom you have had not one skirmish at the time. To impulse more forces under the circ umstances would savor almost of incapacity or worse, had not your earlier career given sufficient proof of your human face and imagination.I thank you, said the general, coldly, but I would remind you that in that location is a difference between boldness and blindness. There is a place for a decisive gamble when you know your enemy and can conduct the risks at least roughly but to move at all against an unknown enemy is boldness in itself. You might as well ask why the same man sprints safely across an obstruction course in the day, and falls over the furniture in his direction at night.Brodrig swept away the others words with a neat work of the fingers. Dramatic, but not satisfactory. You have been to this barbarian world yourself. You have in addition this enemy prisoner you coddle, this trader. Between yourself and the prisoner you are not in a night fog.No? I pray you to re penis that a world which has developed in isolation for two centuries can not be interpreted to the point of intelligent attack by a months visit. I am a soldier, not a cleft-chinned, barrel-chested submarine sandwich of a subetheric trimensional thriller. Nor can a single prisoner, and one who is an obscure member of an economic group which has no close connection with the enemy world introduce me to all the inner secrets of enemy strategy.You have questioned him?I have.Well?It has been useful, but not vitally so. His ship is tiny, of no account. He sells little toys which are amusing if nothing else. I have a few of the cleverest which I intend sending to the Emperor as curiosities. Naturally, there is a good deal about the ship and its workings which I do not understand, but then I am not a tech-man. still you have among you those who are, pointed out Brodrig.I, too, am aware of that, replied the general in faintly caustic tones. But the fools have far to go before they could meet my needs. I have already sent for clever men who can understand the workings of the odd nuclear field-circuits the ship contains. I have received no answer.Men of that type can not be spared, general. Surely, there must be one man of your grand province who understands nucleics.Were there such a one, I would have him furbish up the limping, invalid motors that power two of my small fleet of ships. Two ships of my minimum ten that can not fight a major strife for lack of sufficient power supply. One fifth of my force condemned to the carrion bodily function of consolidating positions behind the lines.The secretarys fingers fluttered impatiently. Your position is not unique in that respect, general. The Emperor has standardized troubles.The general threw away his shredded, never-lit cigarette, lit another, and shrugged. Well, it is beside the immediate point, this lack of first-class tech-men. eject that I might have made more progress with my prisoner were my Psychic investigating in proper order.The secretarys eyebrows lifted. You have a Probe?An old one. A superannuate d one which fails me the one time I needed it. I set it up during the prisoners sleep, and received nothing. So some(prenominal) for the Probe. I have tried it on my own men and the chemical reaction is quite proper, but again there is not one among my staff of tech-men who can tell me why it fails upon the prisoner. Ducem Barr, who is a theoretician of parts, though no mechanic, says the psychic structure of the prisoner may be unaffected by the Probe since from childhood he has been subjected to alien environments and neural stimuli. I dont know. But he may yet be useful. I save him in that hope.Brodrig leaned on his staff. A shall see if a specialist is available in the capital. In the meanwhile, what of this other man you just mentioned, this Siwennian? You keep too some(prenominal) enemies in your good graces.He knows the enemy. He, too, I keep for future cite and the help he may afford me.But he is a Siwennian and the son of a proscribed rebel.He is old and powerless, and h is family acts as hostage.I see. Yet I think that I should speak to this trader, myself.Certainly.Alone, the secretary added coldly, reservation his point.Certainly, repeated Riose, blandly. As a loyal subject of the Emperor, I pay his personal representative as my superior. However, since the trader is at the permanent base, you will have to leave the front areas at an interesting moment.Yes? Interesting in what way?Interesting in that the Enclosure is complete today. Interesting in that within the week, the Twentieth Fleet of the Border advances inward towards the core of resistance. Riose smiled and turned away.In a vague way, Brodrig felt punctured.