The Outbreak of Peace

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  Transcriber's Note:

  This etext was produced from Analog Science Fact & Fiction February 1961. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.

  THE OUTBREAK ... PEACE

  THE OUTBREAK OF PEACE

  By H. B. FYFE

  Illustrated by van Dongen

  _When properly conducted, a diplomatic mission can turn the most smashing of battle-successes into a fabulous Pyrrhic victory._

  * * * * *

  It was a great pity, Space Marshal Wilbur Hennings reflected, as hegazed through the one-way glass of the balcony door, that the localcitizens had insisted upon decorating the square before their capitolwith the hulk of the first spaceship ever to have landed on Pollux V.

  A hundred and fifty years probably seemed impressive to them, amid theexplosive spread of Terran colonies and federations. Actually, in themarshal's opinion, it was merely long enough to reveal such symbols asmore than antiquated but less than historically precious.

  "I presume you plan to have me march past that heap!" he complained,tugging at the extremely "historical" sword that completed the effectof his dazzling white and gold uniform.

  Commodore Miller, his aide, stiffened nervously.

  "Around to the right of it, sir," he gestured. "As you see, the localmilitary are already keeping the route clear of onlookers. We thoughtit would be most impressive if your party were to descend the outerstairway from the palace balcony here ... to heighten the importanceof--"

  "To draw out the pomp and circumstance of opening the conference?"

  "Well, sir ... and then across the square to the conference hall ofthe capitol, outside which you will pause for a few gracious words tothe crowd--"

  "And that will probably be my last opportunity to enjoy the morningsunlight. Oh, well, it seems much too bright here in any case."

  The commodore absently reached out to adjust a fold of his chief'ssky-blue sash, and the marshal as absently parried the gesture.

  "I shall be hardly less than half an hour crossing the square," hepredicted sourly. "With the cheering throngs they have undoubtedlyarranged, and the sunlight reflecting from all that imitation marble,it will be no place to collect one's thoughts."

  * * * * *

  He turned back to the huge chamber constituting the "office" of thesuite supplied by his Polluxian hosts. The skeleton staff of men andwomen remaining occupied chairs and benches along only one wall, sincethe bulk of the delegation had been sent out to make themselvespopular with the local populace.

  Hennings presumed the bulk of the local populace to consist ofPolluxians assigned to making themselves popular with his UrsanFederation delegation. His people would be listening politely tomyriad reasons why the Polluxians had a natural right to occupy allthe star systems from here to Castor, a dozen light-years fartherfrom Terra. No one would mention the true motive--their illogicalchoice in naming themselves the Twin Empire.

  "Well, now!" he said crisply. "Once more over the main points of thesituation! No, commodore, not the schedule of experts that willaccompany me to the table; I rely upon you to have perfected that. Buthave there been any unforeseen developments in the actual fighting?"

  A cluster of aides, mostly in uniform but including a few indiscreetly elegant civilian attire, moved forward. Each was somehowfollowed within arm's reach by an aide of his own, so that the advancepresented overtones of a small sortie.

  Hennings first nodded to the first, a youngish man whose air suggestedtechnical competence more than the assurance of great authority. Theofficer placed his brief case upon the glistening surface of a largetable and touched a switch on the flap.

  "It's as well to be sure, sir," the commodore approved. "Our men havebeen unable to detect any devices, but the walls may have ears."

  "They won't scan through this scrambler, sir," asserted the youngofficer.

  Hennings accepted a seat at the table and looked up to one of theothers.

  "Mirelli's Star," an older officer reported briskly. "The samesituation prevails, with both sides having landed surface troops inforce on Mirelli II, Mirelli III, and Mirelli V, the fourth planetbeing inhabited by a partly civilized, nonhuman race protected underthe Terran Convention."

  "Recent engagements?"

  "No, sir. Maneuvering continues, but actual encounters have declinedin frequency. Casualties are modest and evenly matched. GeneralNilssen on Mirelli III continues to receive Polluxian agents seekinghis defection."

  "I never thought to ask," murmured Hennings. "Is he really a distantconnection of the Polluxian Nilssen family?"

  "It is improbable, sir, but they are polite enough to accept thepretense. Of course, he rejects every offer in a very high-mindedmanner, and seems to be making an adequate impression of chivalry."

  He stepped back at Henning's nod, to be replaced by another officer.

  "One minor space skirmish in the Agohki system to report, sir. Theadmiral in command appears to have recouped after the error of twodays ago, when that Polluxian detachment was so badly mauled. Hearranged the capture of three of our cruisers."

  "Was that not a trifle rash?" demanded Hennings.

  "Intelligence is inclined to think not, sir. The ships were armed onlywith weapons listed as general knowledge items. The crews were notonly trained in prisoner-of-war tactics, but also well supplied withsmall luxuries. The Polluxian fleet in that system is known to havebeen in space for several months, so a friendly effect isanticipated."

  Hennings considered the condensed report proffered for his perusal. Henoted that the Polluxians had been quite gentlemanly about notifyingUrsan headquarters of the capture and of the complete lack ofcasualties. He also saw that while the message was ostensibly directedto the Federation flagship, it had been beamed in such fashion as tobe conveniently intercepted at the secret Ursan Federationheadquarters on Agohki VII.

  "That was a bit rude of them," he commented. "We have never draggedtheir secrets into the open."

  "On the other hand, sir," the commodore suggested, "it may be analmost sophisticated method of permitting us to enjoy our superiorfinesse."

  "I am just as pleased to have the reminder," said Hennings. "It willserve to alert us all the more when we sit down with them over there."

  An elegant civilian, a large man with patient, drooping features,stated that nothing had occurred to change the economic situation.Another reported that unofficial channels of information were holdingup as well as could be expected. A uniformed officer summarized thebattle situation in two more star systems.

  "Those are positions we actually desire to hold, are they not?"Hennings asked. "Is action to be taken there?"

  "Plans call for local civilian riots at the height of the conference,sir."

  "But ... can we lay no groundwork sooner than that? Sometime in theforeseeable future, at least! Take it up with Propaganda, Blauvelt! Itseems to me that the briefing mentioned an indigenous race on one ofthese planets--"

  Blauvelt dropped his eyes momentarily, equivalent in that gathering toa blush of intense embarrassment. Hennings coughed apologetically.

  "Well, now, I should not pry into arrangements I must later be able todeny convincingly with a clear conscience. I can only plead, my dearBlauvelt, the tenseness of the past several days."

  The officer murmured inaudibly, fumbled with his papers, and edged tothe rear rank. Someone, at Commodore Miller's fluttering, obtained
avacuum jug of ice water and a glass for the marshal, but Henningschose instead to produce a long cigar from a pocket concealed beneathhis resplendent collection of medals.

  "My apologies to all of you," he said thoughtfully. "I fear that anyof you who may expect contact with the local population had better seeDr. Ibn Talal about the hypnosis necessary to counteract my littleindiscretion. And now--what remains?"

  "Nothing but the prisoner exchange, sir," Commodore Miller announcedafter collecting the eyes of the principal officers.

  Hennings got his cigar going. He listened to confirmation of aprevious report that a massive exchange of "sick and wounded"prisoners had been accomplished, and learned that the Ursans nowsuspected that they had accepted unknowingly about as many secretagents as they had sent the Polluxians.

  "Oh, well!" he sighed. "As long as the amenities were preserved! Wemust be as friendly as possible about that sort of thing, or run therisk of antagonizing them."

  Seeing that the commodore was tense with impatience, the marshal roseto his feet. An aide deftly received the cigar for disposal, and theparty drifted expectantly toward the balcony doors.

  From among that part of the staff which would remain to manheadquarters, an officer was dispatched to alert the Polluxian honorguard.

  * * * * *

  _One more touch before the die is cast_, thought the marshal, as twoyoung officers opened the balcony doors to admit the blare oftrumpets.

  Cheers rolled successively across the square, rising like distantwaves from somewhere beneath the gigantic banner that draped thecapitol opposite with fiery letters spelling out "PEACE CONFERENCE."

  With a dramatic gesture, Hennings held up the sheaf of reports theyhad just reviewed. Smiles disappeared in response to his own seriousmien.

  "So much for the hostilities!" he snapped. He tossed the reports tothe officer who would remain in charge. "_Now for the actual war!_"

  Pivoting on his heel, he led them smartly out to the ornate balconystairway that curved down into the sea of cheering Polluxians.

  THE END

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