A Forest of Stars - Kevin J. Anderson [112]
“This time, some ships could be crewed by the new Soldier compies currently rolling off the production lines,” Fitzpatrick pointed out. “It would be a chance to test them in battle and thereby decrease the possible losses of human life.”
“Excuse me, gentlemen, but if I might…propose an alternative.” When he did not look at the General, Tasia realized that “Stay-at-Home” Stromo had been concocting his own controversial scheme without input from his commanding officer.
“By all means,” the Chairman said.
“We have to face the fact that we cannot resolve this war through direct military means. The conflict’s very basis defies comparison with any warfare we have faced in our history. Humans and hydrogues aren’t squabbling over territory or beliefs. We have nothing the aliens want, whether it be resources, land, or religious artifacts. Our skymining processes, as far as we know, caused no harm to their gas giants.”
“Well, the Klikiss Torch did blow up one of their planets,” Robb pointed out.
“That was an unfortunate mistake, but somehow this is still not clear to the hydrogues. This war is out of proportion with mere retaliation for that incident, and I can’t help but think that simple communication would at least define the parameters. If we insist on pitting our weaponry and military might against the hydrogues, we’re going to lose. Look at the evidence.” Stromo rested his fists on the table. “We’ve got to hammer out a peace with these aliens, somehow. We’ve got to find common ground with them. Open a dialogue.”
Wenceslas looked calmly at him. “And how would you accomplish that, Admiral? We have no lines of communication, no avenue for sending a message. The hydrogues have no ambassador for us to contact—”
“They did once, Mr. Chairman. Their emissary came to the WhisperPalace enclosed in a pressure tank so he could survive in our environment. Could we not do the same? Construct some sort of diving bell and send our spokesman deep into a gas-giant atmosphere? Meet them on their own turf, face-to-face. Use the worldtrees to send messages, somehow, if the green priests are willing.”
“And then what?” the Chairman asked. “The hydrogue emissary blew himself up and killed King Frederick and everyone in the Throne Hall.”
“Maybe if we meet the drogues on their own terms, our representative could explain to them what we hope to accomplish. Apologize for Oncier. How about a…diving bell with a diplomat inside? Or even somebody just transmitting messages?”
“We could automate it,” Tasia suggested. “Or put one of the Soldier compies on board.”
Stromo shook his head. “Not that simple. We need someone capable of piloting in the roughest environments down in the clouds. It’s unexplored territory, and there are snap decisions to be made.”
“Besides, that would remove the personal touch,” Fitzpatrick said.
Basil drummed his fingertips on the table. “You can’t just train a diplomat to be a hotshot pilot.”
Now Stromo smiled. “No—it’s a lot easier to give a skilled pilot a crash course in diplomacy. All we need is for him to open the door, get the drogues to listen to us. We can provide him with prepared statements, just the right suggestions—all he has to do is deliver the message. Or, if you’re willing to risk two people, send a diplomat and a pilot.”
“One person is plain crazy enough,” Admiral Willis said. “I’d definitely advise against putting two people in that kind of danger.”
Lanyan scowled at his Grid 0 commander, clearly annoyed that Stromo hadn’t consulted with him first. “We won’t get even one person to step up to the line. Who would volunteer to do such a ridiculous thing, Lev? It would be suicide.”
“I’ll do it,” said Robb Brindle after a slight pause. All eyes turned toward him, and he sat straighter in his chair. “It might save tens of thousands of soldiers, maybe millions of colonists in the long run.”
Tasia wanted to kick him under the table. She looked at him aghast. “What are you doing?”
“They’re not going to find a better pilot—you know that. And I’d also ask that you promise