Generals Help Themselves Read online

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  _The fleet came in at four o'clock._]

  _With no one to help him, it seemed the General was lost. But the enemy was soon to discover that--_

  GENERALS HELP THEMSELVES

  By M. C. Pease

  "Did it go well?" the aide asked.

  The admiral, affectionately known as the Old Man, did not reply untilhe'd closed the door, crossed the room, and dropped into the chair athis desk. Then he said:

  "Go well? It did not go at all. Every blasted one of them, from thePresident on down, can think of nothing but the way the Combine over-ranVenus. When I mention P-boats, they shout that the Venusians depended onP-boats, too, and got smashed by the Combine's dreadnoughts in onebattle. 'You can't argue with it, man,' they tell me. And they won'tlisten."

  "But the Venusians fought their P-ships idiotically," the aidecomplained. "It was just plain silly to let small, light, fast shipsslug it out with dreadnoughts. If they had used Plan K--"

  The Old Man snorted.

  "Are you trying to convince me? I've staked my whole reputation on PlanK. They wouldn't give me the money to build a balanced space-fleet, evenwhen the fleets of the Combine of Jupiterian Satellite States werestaring them in the face. So, I took what I could get and poured it intoP-boats. I threw all our engineering and scientific staff into makingthem faster and more maneuverable than anyone ever thought a space-shipcould be. I got them to build me electronic computers that could directthat speed. And, two years ago, every cent I could lay my hands on wentto install the computers on all our ships."

  "I remember," the aide said.

  "But, now the chips are down, the people have funked out on me. I am oneof the most hated men in the Federation. They say I destroyed theirNavy. And, we are not going to get a chance to try Plan K. They decided,today, to accept the Combine's offer to send envoys in a month todiscuss possible revision of the Treaty of Porran. When I left, theywere wondering if there was any chance of getting out for less than BaseQ."

  "But, good lord, sir, Base Q supplies nine tenths of all our power. TheCombine will have a strangle hold on us, if they get that."

  "Quite. But the people will give it to them, rather than fight. And thePresident will sign."

  "Surely, sir, the people are not all cowards?"

  "No. If they had time to think, they would fight. That's why the Combineis striking now. The people are panicky. Hysterical. The collapse ofVenus was so sudden, and the disaster to their P-boats so complete.They've just lost hope. Most people would rather live under a dictatorthan die to no purpose. They've just lost hope."

  The pounding of the Old Man's fist measured his words and the depth ofhis anger.

  "If we could only make them hope. Somehow. Anyhow."

  Suddenly, his clenched fist stopped in mid-air. He frowned. Slowly, hishand opened. The frown relaxed and a smile replaced it.

  "Maybe we can, at that. Maybe we can." He leaned back with his eyes halfclosed. His aide knew better than to interrupt him. Ten minutes later,he opened his eyes.

  "Make arrangements to have Commander Morgan take command of Base Q assoon as possible. Within two days at the outside." His manner was curtand clipped. "And bring him here to me before he leaves."

  "Yes, sir. But may I say, sir, I do not understand?"

  "You're not supposed to."

  "Yes, sir."

  The aide was a competent man. Orders were written that afternoon, incomplete disregard of normal red-tape. Base Q was advised of theimminent shift. Commander Stanley Morgan boarded a jet plane on theAustralian desert that night. The next morning, he was shown into theOld Man's office.

  "Commander," the Old Man said after the preliminaries were taken careof, "as you are well aware, you have been in considerable disgrace,recently, for getting too close to the Venusian-Combine war, in defianceof orders. It has been felt, in certain quarters, that you might havecaused a serious international crisis."

  * * * * *

  The junior officer started to speak, but the admiral waved him tosilence.

  "You could, if you like, point out that the crisis has come, anyhow. Asa matter of fact, I never felt that that phase of your action was tooimportant. I did, however, deplore your disregard of orders--and stilldo." He paused a moment, while his steel gray eyes studied the youngerman. "You are about to receive new orders. It is absolutely imperativethat these orders be obeyed explicitly." His pointing finger punctuatedhis words with slow emphasis.

  "These orders place you in command of Base Q. The Treaty of Porran,among other things, designates the asteroid Quanlik, or Base Q, as beingthe territory solely of the Federation and suitable for theestablishment of a delta-level energy converter. Because this converteris the prime source of gamma-level, degenerate matter which is used asthe fuel for nearly all our power generators, Base Q is recognized as aprime defense area of the Federation. A sphere, one hundred thousandmiles radius about Quanlik, was designated by the treaty as a primaryzone. Any ship or ships entering this zone may be ordered to leavewithin one hour. Upon failure to comply, our military forces may takesuch action as they deem necessary. A sphere, twenty thousand milesradius, is designated as the secondary zone. Assuming the prior warninghas been given upon their entrance into the primary zone, full actionmay be taken against any ship entering this without delay or furtherwarning.

  "Standing orders with regard to Base Q are that any ship entering theprimary zone shall be warned immediately. Upon failure to comply, afterthe one hour period, full action shall be taken with the forcesstationed on Quanlik. Any ship entering the secondary zone shall bebrought to action as soon as possible without warning.

  "Your orders direct you to assume command of Base Q and to comply withexisting standing orders regarding the maintenance of its security untiland unless advised of a change in the standing orders or the Treaty ofPorran." The Old Man paused for effect. "Any questions?"

  "Yes, sir," the younger man said. "I am wondering if I should inquirewhat events you are anticipating. Would it be wise for me to ask?"

  "No!" The monosyllable cracked out like a shot.

  "No further questions, sir."

  "I have one. While you were in Australia, I presume you kept wellinformed on recent developments of Plan K?"

  "Yes, sir. The school I commanded taught advanced theory of Plan K."

  "Very good. You will proceed immediately to Base Q. As a final word Iwill repeat the absolute necessity of obeying your orders _to theletter_! Good luck."

  The young man saluted, collected his orders and walked out. Two hourslater, he was in space.

  * * * * *

  Commander Morgan's office was perched in a plastic bubble high on a cragoverlooking Base Q. Directly below it lay a few of the multitude oflocks that provided haven for the protecting fleet of P-ships. A vastarray of domes and other geometrical shapes bore witness to the hive ofmachine-shops, storerooms, offices, et al, that kept the fleetoperating. And on the far horizon towered the mighty structure of thedelta-level converter, the reason for the existence of Base Q. A quarterof a million tons of high-test steel and special alloys, machined totolerances of less than a thousandth of an inch, with another hundredthousand tons of control equipment, it was yet delicate enough so thatit could not have functioned in the gravity field of any planet. Thisasteroid, small as it was, was barely below the permissible limit.

  The Commander sat at his desk, watching the latest flashes in thenews-caster. They were not good. At this very moment, the President ofthe Federation was in conference with the representati
ves of theCombine, discussing the wording of the protocol that would probably besigned in a few hours. And no word--no hint--that anyone in theFederation outside the services was willing to dare anything at all. Ared light flashed on his desk. A buzzer sounded a strident call. Heflipped a switch. "Commander talking."

  "Far-Search talking. Report contact with large group of ships, probablydreadnought warships. Range, two one oh. Bearing, four oh dash one nine.Speed, seven five. Course, approaching. That is all."

  "Keep me advised any change or further details. Advise when contactrange is one five oh."

  "Wilco."

  The Commander pressed a button on his desk. In response, his staffquickly assembled to brief him on the immediate status of Base Q as awar-making machine. As a