Foundation and Empire 6. The Favorite

The tiny carrys had appeargond out of the va give the gatet depths and darted into the midst of the Armada. Without a shot or a burst of energy, they weaved through the ship-swollen area, then blasted on and out, trance the Imperial wagons turned after them like lumbering beasts. There were two noiseless flares that pinpointed space as two of the tiny gnats shriveled in atomic disintegration, and the rest were g peerless.The great ships searched, then returned to their original task, and world by world, the great clear of the Enclosure continued.Brodrigs uniform was stately carefully tailored and as carefully worn. His walk through the gardens of the obscure planet Wanda, now temporary Imperial headquarters, was soft his expression was somber.Bel Riose walked with him, his field uniform open at the collar, and doleful in its mo nononous gray-black.Riose indicated the smooth black bench under the fragrant tree-fern whose bulky spatulate leaves lifted flatly against the white sun. See that, sir. It is a relic of the Imperium. The ornamented benches, built for lovers, linger on, fresh and useful, while the factories and the palaces collapse into unremembered ruin.He seated himself, while Cleon IIs Privy Secretary s likewised erect before him and clipped the leaves above neatly with precise swings of his ivory staff.Riose crossed his legs and offered a cigarette to the other. He fingered unmatched 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 any anguish I might have felt that the press of more important and more immediate business might perhaps force into the shadows a pure campaign on the Periphery.The eyes of the Emperor are everywhere, said Brodrig, mechanic each(prenominal)y. We do not underestimate the importance of the campaign yet still it would seem that too great an emphasis is being placed upon its difficulty. Surely their illuminated tle ships are no such barrier that we must move through the intricate earlier biteuver of an Enclosure.Riose flushed, but he maintained his equilibrium. I can not risk the lives of my men, who are few enough, or the destruction of my ships which are irreplaceable, by a too-rash attack. The establishment of an Enclosure will quarter my casualties in the ultimate attack, howsoever difficult it be. The military reasons for that I took the liberty to explain yesterday.Well, well, I am not a military man. In this case, you assure me that what seems patently and obviously right is, in reality, wrong. We will allow that. Yet your caution shoots far beyond that. In your warrant 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 desire more forces under the circumstances would savor almost of incapacity or worse, had not your earlier career given ample proof of your boldness and imag ination.I thank you, said the general, coldly, but I would remind you that there is a release between boldness and blindness. There is a place for a decisive gamble when you know your enemy and can calculate the risks at least about 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 obstacle course in the day, and falls over the furniture in his room at night.Brodrig swept away the others words with a neat flirt 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 remember 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 hero of a subetheric trimensional thriller. Nor can a si ngle 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 cipher else. I have a few of the happyest which I intend sending to the Emperor as curiosities. Naturally, there is a good enough deal about the ship and its workings which I do not understand, but then I am not a tech-man.But you have among you those who are, pointed out Brodrig.I, too, am awake 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 accredited no answer.Men of that type can not be spared, general. Surely, there must be one man of your vast province who u nderstands nucleics.Were there such a one, I would have him heal the limping, incapacitate motors that power two of my small fleet of ships. Two ships of my meager ten that can not fight a major battle for lack of sufficient power supply. One fifth of my force condemned to the carrion activity of consolidating positions behind the lines.The secretarys fingers fluttered impatiently. Your position is not unique in that respect, general. The Emperor has similar 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. Except that I might have made more progress with my prisoner were my Psychic Probe in straight-laced order.The secretarys eyebrows lifted. You have a Probe?An old one. A superannuated one which fails me the one time I needed it. I set it up during the prisoners sleep, and received nothing. So much for the Probe. I have tried it on my own men and the 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 many enemies in your good graces.He knows the enemy. He, too, I keep for future reference and the help he may afford me.But he is a Siwennian and the son of a command rebel.He is old and powerless, and his family acts as hostage.I see. Yet I think that I should speak to this trader, myself.Certainly.Alone, the secretary added coldly, making his point.Certainly, repeated Riose, blandly. As a trusty subject of the Emperor, I accept 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 elicit 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 fondness of resistance. Riose smiled and turned away.In a vague way, Brodrig felt punctured.