Chapter 4: The Traitor

Convincing the Kerothi that he was in earnest was more difficult than MacMaine had at first supposed. He had done his best, and now, after nearly a year of captivity, Tallis had come to tell him that his offer had been accepted.

General Tallis sat across from Colonel MacMaine, smoking his cigarette absently.

“Just why are they accepting my proposition?” MacMaine asked bluntly.

“Because they can afford to,” Tallis said with a smile. “You will be watched, my sibling-by-choice. Watched every moment, for any sign of treason. Your flagship will be a small ten-man blaster-boat--one of our own. You gave us one; we’ll give you one. At the worst, we will come out even. At the best, your admittedly brilliant grasp of tactics and strategy will enable us to save thousands of Kerothi lives, to say nothing of the immense savings in time and money.”

“All I ask is a chance to prove my ability and my loyalty.”

“You’ve already proven your ability. All of the strategy problems that you have been given over the past year were actual battles that had already been fought. In eighty-seven per cent of the cases, your strategy proved to be superior to our own. In most of the others, it was just as good. In only three cases was the estimate of your losses higher than the actual losses. Actually, we’d be fools to turn you down. We have everything to gain and nothing to lose.”

“I felt the same way a year ago,” said MacMaine. “Even being watched all the time will allow me more freedom than I had on Earth--if the Board of Strategy is willing to meet my terms.”

Tallis chuckled. “They are. You’ll be the best-paid officer in the entire fleet; none of the rest of us gets a tenth of what you’ll be getting, as far as personal value is concerned. And yet, it costs us practically nothing. You drive an attractive bargain, Sepastian.”

“Is that the kind of pay you’d like to get, Tallis?” MacMaine asked with a smile.

“Why not? You’ll get your terms: full pay as a Kerothi general, with retirement on full pay after the war is over. The pick of the most beautiful--by your standards--of the Earthwomen we capture. A home on Keroth, built to your specifications, and full citizenship, including the freedom to enter into any business relationships you wish. If you keep your promises, we can keep ours and still come out ahead.”

“Good. When do we start?”

“Now,” said Tallis rising from his chair. “Put on your dress uniform, and we’ll go down to see the High Commander. We’ve got to give you a set of general’s insignia, my sibling-by-choice.”

Tallis waited while MacMaine donned the blue trousers and gold-trimmed red uniform of a Kerothi officer. When he was through, MacMaine looked at himself in the mirror. “There’s one more thing, Tallis,” he said thoughtfully.

“What’s that?”

“This hair. I think you’d better arrange to have it permanently removed, according to your custom. I can’t do anything about the color of my skin, but there’s no point in my looking like one of your wild hillmen.”

“You’re very gracious,” Tallis said. “And very wise. Our officers will certainly come closer to feeling that you are one of us.”

“I am one of you from this moment,” MacMaine said. “I never intend to see Earth again, except, perhaps, from space--when we fight the final battle of the war.”

“That may be a hard battle,” Tallis said.

“Maybe,” MacMaine said thoughtfully. “On the other hand, if my overall strategy comes out the way I think it will, that battle may never be fought at all. I think that complete and total surrender will end the war before we ever get that close to Earth.”

“I hope you’re right,” Tallis said firmly. “This war is costing far more than we had anticipated, in spite of the weakness of your--that is, of Earth.”

“Well,” MacMaine said with a slight grin, “at least you’ve been able to capture enough Earth food to keep me eating well all this time.”

Tallis’ grin was broad. “You’re right. We’re not doing too badly at that. Now, let’s go; the High Commander is waiting.”

MacMaine didn’t realize until he walked into the big room that what he was facing was not just a discussion with a high officer, but what amounted to a Court of Inquiry.

The High Commander, a dome-headed, wrinkled, yellow-skinned, hard-eyed old Kerothi, was seated in the center of a long, high desk, flanked on either side by two lower-ranking generals who had the same deadly, hard look. Off to one side, almost like a jury in a jury box, sat twenty or so lesser officers, none of them ranking below the Kerothi equivalent of lieutenant-colonel.

As far as MacMaine could tell, none of the officers wore the insignia of fleet officers, the spaceship-and-comet that showed that the wearer was a fighting man. These were the men of the Permanent Headquarters Staff--the military group that controlled, not only the armed forces of Keroth, but the civil government as well.

“What’s this?” MacMaine hissed in a whispered aside, in English.

“Pearr up, my prrotherr,” Tallis answered softly, in the same tongue, “all is well.”

MacMaine had known, long before he had ever heard of General Polan Tallis, that the Hegemony of Keroth was governed by a military junta, and that all Kerothi were regarded as members of the armed forces. Technically, there were no civilians; they were legally members of the “unorganized reserve,” and were under military law. He had known that Kerothi society was, in its own way, as much a slave society as that of Earth, but it had the advantage over Earth in that the system did allow for advance by merit. If a man had the determination to get ahead, and the ability to cut the throat--either literally or figuratively--of the man above him in rank, he could take his place.

On a more strictly legal basis, it was possible for a common trooper to become an officer by going through the schools set up for that purpose, but, in practice, it took both pull and pressure to get into those schools.

In theory, any citizen of the Hegemony could become an officer, and any officer could become a member of the Permanent Headquarters Staff. Actually, a much greater preference was given to the children of officers. Examinations were given periodically for the purpose of recruiting new members for the elite officers’ corps, and any citizen could take the examination--once.

But the tests were heavily weighted in favor of those who were already well-versed in matters military, including what might be called the “inside jokes” of the officers’ corps. A common trooper had some chance of passing the examination; a civilian had a very minute chance. A noncommissioned officer had the best chance of passing the examination, but there were age limits which usually kept NCO’s from getting a commission. By the time a man became a noncommissioned officer, he was too old to be admitted to the officers training schools. There were allowances made for “extraordinary merit,” which allowed common troopers or upper-grade NCO’s to be commissioned in spite of the general rules, and an astute man could take advantage of those allowances.

Ability could get a man up the ladder, but it had to be a particular kind of ability.

During his sojourn as a “guest” of the Kerothi, MacMaine had made a point of exploring the history of the race. He knew perfectly well that the histories he had read were doctored, twisted, and, in general, totally unreliable in so far as presenting anything that would be called a history by an unbiased investigator.

But, knowing this, MacMaine had been able to learn a great deal about the present society. Even if the “history” was worthless as such, it did tell something about the attitudes of a society that would make up such a history. And, too, he felt that, in general, the main events which had been catalogued actually occurred; the details had been blurred, and the attitudes of the people had been misrepresented, but the skeleton was essentially factual.

MacMaine felt that he knew what kind of philosophy had produced the mental attitudes of the Court he now faced, and he felt he knew how to handle himself before them.