Chapter 10

No man is perfect. Even with four decades of training behind him, Commander Frank couldn’t call the turn every time. After the first few villages, there were no further battles. The natives, having seen what the invaders could do, simply showed up missing when the commander and his men arrived. The villages were empty by the time the column reached the outskirts.

Frater Vincent, the agent of the Universal Assembly, complained in no uncertain terms about this state of affairs.

“As you know, commander,” he said frowningly one morning, “it’s no use trying to indoctrinate a people we can’t contact. And you can’t subject a people by force of arms alone; the power of the Truth--”

“I know, Frater,” the commander interposed quickly. “But we can’t deal with these savages in the hinterlands. When we get a little farther into this barbarian empire, we can take the necessary steps to--”

“The Truth,” Frater Vincent interrupted somewhat testily, “is for all men. It works, regardless of the state of civilization of the society.”

The commander looked out of the unglazed window of the native hut in which he had established his temporary headquarters, in one of the many villages he had taken--or, rather, walked into without a fight because it was empty. “But you’ll admit, Frater, that it takes longer with savages.”

“True,” said Frater Vincent.

“We simply haven’t the time. We’ve got to keep on the move. And, besides, we haven’t even been able to contact any of the natives for quite a while; they get out of our way. And we have taken a few prisoners--” His voice was apologetic, but there was a trace of irritation in it. He didn’t want to offend Frater Vincent, of course, but dammit, the Assemblyman didn’t understand military tactics at all. Or, he corrected himself hastily, at least only slightly.

“Yes,” admitted Frater Vincent, “and I’ve had considerable success with the prisoners. But, remember--we’re not here just to indoctrinate a few occasional prisoners, but to change the entire moral and philosophical viewpoint of an entire race.”

“I realize that, Frater,” the commander admitted. He turned from the window and faced the Assemblyman. “We’re getting close to the Great Bay now. That’s where our ship landed on the second probing expedition. I expect we’ll be more welcome there than we have been, out here in the countryside. We’ll take it easy, and I think you’ll have a chance to work with the natives on a mass basis.”

The Frater smiled. “Excellent, commander. I ... uh ... want you to understand that I’m not trying to tell you your business; you run this campaign as you see fit. But don’t lose sight of the ultimate goal of life.”

“I won’t. How could I? It’s just that my methods are not, perhaps, as refined as yours.”

Frater Vincent nodded, still smiling. “True. You are a great deal more direct. And--in your own way--just as effective. After all, the Assembly could not function without the military, but there were armies long before the Universal Assembly came into being.”

The commander smiled back. “Not any armies like this, Frater.”

Frater Vincent nodded. The understanding between the two men--at least on that point--was tacit and mutual. He traced a symbol in the air and left the commander to his thoughts.

Mentally, the commander went through the symbol-patterns that he had learned as a child--the symbol-patterns that brought him into direct contact with the Ultimate Power, the Power that controlled not only the spinning of atoms and the whirling of electrons in their orbits, but the workings of probability itself.