Second Foundation 19. End of War

QUORISTON, BATTLE OF Fought on 9, 17, 377 F.E. between the forces of the notwithstandingtocks and those of shaper Stettin of Kalgan, it was the last battle of consequence during the InterregnumEncyclopedia GalacticaJole Turbor, in his recent theatrical role of contend correspondent, found his bulk incased in a maritime uniform, and rather liked it. He enjoyed being corroborate on the air, and around of the fierce helplessness of the futile fight against the hour metrical foot remaining wing(p) him in the excite custodyt of a nonher sort of fight with substantial ships and mean(a) men.To be sure, the Foundations fight had not been remarkable for victories, but it was cool it viable to be philosophic ab push through the matter. After six months, the hard affection of the Foundation was untouched, and the hard core of the languish was still in being. With the red-hot additions since the start of the struggle, it was almost as strong numeric eithery, and stronger te chnically, than forrader the defeat at Ifni.And meanwhile, planetary defenses were being streng pasted the armed forces better trained administrative efficiency was having some of the water squeezed out of it and more of the Kalganians conquering scoot was being wallowed watch through the necessity of occupying the conquered territory.At the moment, Turbor was with the Third Fleet in the outer r each(prenominal)es of the Anacreonian sector. In bloodline with his policy of making this a little mans war, he was interviewing Fennel Leemor, Engineer Third Class, volunteer.Tell us a little about yourself, boatman, utter Turbor.Aint much to tell, Leemor shuffled his feet and allowed a faint, bashful smile to cover his face, as though he could calculate all the millions that undoubtedly could see him at the moment. Im a Locrian. Got a job in an air-car factory section head and good pay. Im married got two kids, some(prenominal) little girls. Say, I couldnt decl are hello to t hem, could I in case theyre listening.Go ahead, sailor. The video is all yours.Gosh, thanks. He burbled, Hello, Milla, in case youre listening, Im fine. Is Sunni all correct? And Tomma? I value of you all the time and maybe Ill be back on furlough after we get back to port. I got your solid food parcel but Im sending it back. We get our regular mess, but they say the civilians are a little tight. I guess thats all.Ill get word her up next time Im on Locris, sailor, and make sure shes not abruptly of food. O.K.?The young man smiled broadly and nodded his head. Thank you, Mr. Turbor. Id appreciate that.All right. mull over you tell us, then Youre a volunteer, arent you?Sure am. If allone picks a fight with me, I dont gain to wait for anyone to drag me in. I joined up the solar day I heard about the Hober Mallow.Thats a fine spirit. Have you seen much action? I notice Youre wearing two battle stars.Ptah. The sailor spat. Those werent battles, they were chases. The Kalganians dont fight, unless they get under ones skin odds of atomic number 23 to one or better in their favor. Even then they just edge in and try to cutting off us up ship by ship. Cousin of mine was at Ifni and he was on a ship that got away, the old Ebling Mis. He says it was the like there. They had their Main Fleet against just a wing division of ours, and d receive to where we only had five ships left, they kept stalking instead of fighting. We got twice as more of their ships at that fight.Then you think were going to win the war?Sure bet now that we arent hit the haying. Even if things got too bad, thats when Id expect the Second Foundation to step in. We still got the Seldon Plan and they know it, too.Turbors lips curled a bit. Youre counting on the Second Foundation, then?The answer came with honest surprise. Well, doesnt e actuallyone? petty(prenominal) Officer Tippellum stepped into Turbors room after the visicast. He shoved a cigarette at the correspondent and knocked his cap back to a perilous balance on the occiput.We picked up a prisoner, he said.Yes?Little crazy fellow. Claims to be a neutral diplomatic immunity, no less. I dont think they know what to do with him. His names Palvro, Palver, something like that, and he says hes from Trantor. Dont know what in space hes doing in a war zone.But Turbor had swung to a sitting position on his work off and the nap he had been about to repulse was forgotten. He remembered quite sound his last interview with Darell, the day after war had been declared and he was shoving off.Preem Palver, he said. It was a statement.Tippellum paused and let the smoke trickle out the sides of his mouth. Yeah, he said, how in space did you know?Never mind. Can I see him?Space, I bottomt say. The old man has him in his own room for questioning. allone figures hes a spy.You tell the old man that I know him, if hes who he claims he is. III score the responsibility.Captain Dixyl on the flagship of the Third Fleet watche d unremittingly at the elevated Detector. No ship could avoid being a source of subatomic radiation not even if it were lying an inert mass and each focal point of such radiation was a little glow in the terce-dimensional field.Each one of the Foundations ships were accounted for and no sparkle was left over, now that the little spy who claimed to be a neutral had been picked up. For a while, that outside ship had created a stir in the captains quarters. The tactics magnateiness have needed changing on short notice. As it was- are you sure you have it? he asked.Commander Cenn nodded. I impart take my squadron through hyperspace radius, 10.00 parsecs theta, 268.52 degrees phi, 84.15 degrees. Return to origin at 1330. Total absence 11.83 hours.Right. straight we are going to count on pin-point return as regards both space and time. Understand?Yes, captain. He looked at his wrist watch, My ships give be ready by 0140.Good, said Captain Dixyl.The Kalganian squadron was not wit hin demodulator range now, but they would be soon. in that location was independent information to that effect. Without Cenns squadron the Foundation forces would be badly outnumbered, but the captain was quite confident. Quite confident.Preem Palver looked woefully about him. First at the tall, skinny admiral then at the others, everyone in uniform and now at this last one, big and stout, with his exigency open and no tie not like the rest who said he wanted to speak to him.Jole Turbor was saying I am absolutely aware, admiral, of the serious possibilities involved here, but I tell you that if I seat be allowed to speak to him for a few legal proceeding, I may be able to slewtle the current uncertainty.Is there any reason why you cant question him before me?Turbor pursed his lips and looked stubborn. Admiral, he said, while I have been prone to your ships, the Third Fleet has get an excellent press. You may station men outside the door, if you like, and you may return in five minutes. But, meanwhile, humor me a bit, and your public relations will not suffer. Do you understand me?He did.Then Turbor in the isolation that followed, rancid to Palver, and said, Quickly what is the name of the girl you abducted.And Palver could simply stare round-eyed, and shake his head.No nonsense, said Turbor. If you do not answer, you will be a spy and spies are blasted without essay in war time.Arcadia Darell gasped Palver.Well All right, then. Is she safe?Palver nodded.You had better be sure of that, or it wont be well for you.She is in good health, utterly safe, said Palver, palely.The admiral returned, Well?The man, sir, is not a spy. You may think what he tells you. I vouch for him.That so? The admiral frowned. Then he represents an agricultural co-operative on Trantor that wants to make a trade treaty with end point for the delivery of grains and potatoes. Well, all right, but he cant leave now.Why not? asked Palver, quickly.Because were in the middle of a battle. After it is over assuming were still alive well take you to Terminus.The Kalganian emit that spanned through space detected the Foundation ships from an incredible distance and were themselves detected. Like little fireflies in each others pace Detectors, they closed in across the emptiness.And the Foundations admiral frowned and said, This must be their master(prenominal) push. Look at the numbers. Then, They wont stand up before us, though not if Cenns detachment can be counted on.Commander Cenn had left hours before at the first detection of the coming rival. There was no way of repair the plan now. It worked or it didnt, but the admiral felt quite comfortable. As did the officers. As did the men.Again watch the fireflies.Like a deadly ballet dance, in precise formations, they sparked.The Foundation fleet edged slowly backwards. Hours passed and the fleet veered slowly off, teasing the advancing enemy slightly off course, then more so.In the minds of the dictator s of the battle plan, there was a certain book of account of space that must be occupied by the Kalganian ships. Out from that majority crept the Foundationers into it slipped the Kalganians. Those that passed out again were attacked, suddenly and fiercely. Those that stayed within were not touched.It all depended on the reluctance of the ships of Lord Stettin to take the initiative themselves on their willingness to remain where none attacked.Captain Dixyl stared frigidly at his wrist watch. It was 1310, Weve got 20 minutes, he said.The lieutenant at his side nodded tensely, It looks all right so furthermost, captain. Weve got more than 90 percent of them boxed. If we can keep them that way-Yes If-The Foundation ships were drifting forward again very slowly. Not quick enough to urge a Kalganian retreat and just quickly enough to discourage a Kalganian advance. They preferred to wait.And the minutes passed.At 1325, the admirals buzzer sounded in seventy-five ships of the Fou ndations line, and they built up to a maximum acceleration towards the front-plane of the Kalganian fleet, itself triple hundred strong. Kalganian shields flared into action, and the vast energy beams flicked out. Every one of the three hundred concentrated in the same direction, towards their worried attackers who bore down relentlessly, uncaringly and-At 1330, fifty ships under Commander Cenn appeared from nowhere, in one single bound through hyperspace to a calculated part at a calculated time and were spaced in wild fury at the unprepared Kalganian rear.The trap worked perfectly.The Kalganians still had numbers on their side, but they were in no mood to count. Their first effort was to be given and the formation once broken was only the more vulnerable, as the enemy ships bumbled into one anothers path.After a while, it took on the proportions of a rat hunt.Of three hundred Kalganian ships, the core and pride of their fleet, some sixty or less, many in a state of near-hope less disrepair, reached Kalgan once more. The Foundation loss was eighter from Decatur ships out of a total of one hundred twenty-five.Preem Palver landed on Terminus at the height of the celebration. He found the furore distracting, but before he left the planet, he had accomplished two things, and received one request.The two things accomplished were 1) the conclusion of an agreement whereby Palvers co-operative was to deliver twenty shiploads of certain foodstuffs per month for the next year at a war price, without, thanks to the recent battle, a corresponding war risk, and 2) the transfer to Dr. Darell of Arcadias five short words.For a startled moment, Darell had stared wide-eyed at him, and then he had made his request. It was to carry an answer back to Arcadia. Palver liked it it was a dewy-eyed answer and made sense. It was Come back now. There wont be any danger.Lord Stettin was in raging frustration. To watch his every weapon break in his hands to feel the firm fabric of his military might part like the rotten thread it suddenly turned out to be would have turned phlegmaticism itself into flowing lava. And til now he was helpless, and knew it.He hadnt really slept well in weeks. He hadnt shaved in three days. He had canceled all audiences. His admirals were left to themselves and none knew better than the Lord of Kalgan that very little time and no further defeats need elapse before he would have to contend with internal rebellion.Lev Meirus, First Minister, was no help. He stood there, calm and indecently old, with his thin, nervous finger stroking, as forever, the wrinkled line from nose to chin.Well, shouted Stettin at him, contribute something. We stand here defeated, do you understand? Defeated And why? I dont know why. There you have it. I dont know why. Do you know why?I think so, said Meirus, calmly.Treason The word came out softly, and other words followed as softly. Youve known of treason, and youve kept quiet. You served the fool I eje cted from the First Citizenship and you think you can serve whatever foul rat replaces me. If you have acted so, I will extract your entrails for it and burn them before your living eyes.Meirus was unmoved. I have tried to fill you with my own doubts, not once, but many times. I have dinned it in your ears and you have preferred the advice of others because it stuffed your ego better. Matters have turned out not as I feared, but even worse. If you do not care to listen now, say so, sir, and I shall leave, and, in receivable course, deal with your successor, whose first act, no doubt, will be to sign a treaty of peace.Stettin stared at him red-eyed, enormous fists slowly clenching and unclenching. Speak, you gray slug. SpeakI have told you often, sir, that you are not the Mule. You may visualize ships and guns but you cannot control the minds of your subjects. Are you aware, sir, of who it is you are fighting? You fight the Foundation, which is never defeated the Foundation, which is saved by the Seldon Plan the Foundation, which is destined to form a new Empire.There is no Plan. No longer. Munn has said so.Then Munn is wrong. And if he were right, what then? You and I, sir, are not the people. The men and women of Kalgan and its subject worlds believe utterly and deeply in the Seldon Plan as do all the inhabitants of this end of the Galaxy. Nearly four-spot hundred years of history teach the fact that the Foundation cannot be beaten. Neither the kingdoms nor the warlords nor the old Galactic Empire itself could do it.The Mule did it.Exactly, and he was beyond calculation and you are not. What is worse, the people know that you are not. So your ships go into battle fearing defeat in some unknown way. The aerial fabric of the Plan hangs over them so that they are cautious and look before they attack and wonder a little too much. while on the other side, that same insubstantial fabric fills the enemy with confidence, removes fear, maintains morale in the face of early defeats. Why not? The Foundation has always been defeated at first and has always won in the end.And your own morale, sir? You stand everywhere on enemy territory. Your own dominions have not been invaded are still not in danger of invasion yet you are defeated. You dont believe in the possibility, even, of victory, because you know there is none.Stoop, then, or you will be beaten to your knees. Stoop voluntarily, and you may save a remnant. You have depended on metal and power and they have sustained you as far as they could. You have ignored mind and morale and they have failed you. Now, take my advice. You have the Foundation man, Homir Munn. Release him. Send him back to Terminus and he will carry your peace offers.Stettins teeth ground behind his pale, set lips. But what choice had he?On the first day of the new year, Homir Munn left Kalgan again. More than six months had passed since he had left Terminus and in the interim, a war had raged and faded.He had come alone, but he left escorted. He had come a simple man of private animation he left the unappointed but nevertheless, actual, ambassador of peace.And what had most changed was his early foreboding over the Second Foundation. He laughed at the thought of that and pictured in luxuriant detail the final revelation to Dr. Darell, to that energetic, young competent, Anthor, to all of them-He knew. He, Homir Munn, finally knew the truth.