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thought she detected a strange sort of intensity … As if the alien thought he knew where ChienChu was headed… but was afraid to hope.
    “I have no way to know,” the industrialist continued earnestly, “but it’s my guess that the Hudathan military has been anything but inactive during the last fifty years, and are at the very peak of readiness. All of which points to a reserve of warriors, fierce warriors, who have every reason to fight the Sheen and nothing to lose.”
    Nankool went pale. His hands started to shake. “My apologies to the Ambassador—but have you taken leave of your senses? Have you forgotten the death of your own son? The deaths of more than two million Confederate soldiers? The deaths of a billion civilians? All at the hands of the Hudathans? I’m sorry, Sergi… but what you propose is out of the question. Even if the Hudathans agreed, even if they fought the Sheen to a standstill, they would turn on us in the end.”
    Though not as responsive as his flesh and blood face had been, the highly malleable plastic did its best to reflect what the cyborg felt, and there was no mistaking the extent of his emotions. A hand slammed down onto the surface of the table, and wineglasses jumped in response. Maylo, who had never seen her uncle lose his temper in all the years she had known him, felt suddenly afraid.
    “You think I haven’t considered those things? Damn your impertinence! Not a day passes that I don’t think of Leonid, of the fact that I sent him to Spindle, where the Hudathans killed him.
    “But what of the billions for whom we are responsible? How many will the Sheen slaughter? Once dead, we have no means to bring them back. Should we defeat the Sheen, and go on to face the Hudathans, they have a chance. No offense to Ambassador DomaSa—but we defeated his race on two previous occasions. I believe we can do so again.”
    Though confused by conflicting emotions Maylo came to her uncle’s assistance. “Sergi has a point… Perhaps the Hudathans could change, if they wanted to change, and integrate themselves into Confederate society. Still, even if they can’t, limits can be imposed.”
    “Yes!” ChienChu added gratefully. “Limit the size of their navy! Troops mean nothing without the means to move them around.”
    “Spoken like a true admiral,” Nankool said dryly. “I see what you mean … but I still find the concept more than a little frightening.”
    The President turned to DomaSa. So, Ambassador, what do you think? Would you and your people fight alongside the Confederacy in exchange for limited freedoms? And to what extent could your race be trusted? Realizing that you are a bit biased of course.”
    DomaSa fought to control the unseemly feeling of joy that threatened to overwhelm the rest of his faculties. At last! Here was the opportunity he had dreamed of, . . An opening to exploit. But at what cost? The Thrakie hoped to use the entire Confederacy as a shield—and ChienChu wanted to employ his people as a spear. Oh, how he hungered for something clean and pure. The diplomat chose his words with care.
    “The governor’s assumption is correct. Though not permitted to leave the surface of Hudatha, my people have been able to maintain a high state of military readiness. A fact that in no way violates the terms of our surrender and subsequent imprisonment.
    “As for our willingness to fight the Sheen, well, anyone who has carried out even the most superficial analysis of our racial psychology knows that we have a strong, some would say overdeveloped sense of survival. Given the opportunity to neutralize a threat, we will always seek to do so.
    “Such decisions lie beyond the scope of my authority, but, I believe the answer would be ‘yes.’ If we were allowed some additional freedoms—and the right to settle new worlds. Hudatha grows less stable with each passing year, and time grows short.”
    “And then?” Nankool demanded. “If we defeat the Sheen? What could