Footfall

“Damn straight,” Toland said. “Can he do it?”

Carrell shrugged. “General, I expect the engineering people will be working on that question. It would be interesting to know what they think.”

“Sir.” Je

“Dreamer Fithp here.”

“Engineering.”

“They’re all busy,” Reynolds’ voice said. “So they have me answering the phone.”

“Your projection?”

“I’ll give you Colonel Matthews. Al, they want a projection.”

“Matthews here. We don’t have a projection.”

Admiral Carrell broke in. “Colonel, would you care to explain that?”

“Sir. Given the damage Michael has sustained, and the defense capabilities demonstrated by the enemy, a majority of my analysts believe the most likely event is mutual destruction of Michael and the enemy mother ship. We can’t assign a probability to that. A large minority of our people believe the enemy will be severely damaged but Michael will be destroyed.

“The Threat Team is nearly unanimous: the enemy will do almost anything to prevent severe damage to the mother ship.”

“What does that mean, almost anything?” Carrell demanded.

“Certainly an offer of surrender.”

“Sincere?”

“Sir?”

“My apologies. You can’t know.”

“They’ll also go all out to protect the mother ship. Their warriors aren’t likely to be less courageous than ours. They’ll throw everything they have.”

“No surprise there,” General Toland said.

“Thank you, Colonel. I’ll ask you to use screen five to display your projections.”

“Yes, sir.”

On the screen below, Michael’s blue crept toward the enemy red.

“Sir. We’re getting something.”

“Gimlet, this is Harpoon. We’re getting a tightbeam message on the same frequency the aliens used when they sent that message to the President. It’s for the President.”

“They want to talk!” General Toland said.

“Put them on!” David Coffey ordered.

“Alert the Threat Team to listen to this,” Admiral Carrell said.

“Harpoon, put them on. Stand by to transmit replies.”

“Roger. Stand by.”

“Mr. President, Mr. President. This is Wes Dawson. Come in, Mr. President. President Coffey, this Wes Dawson.”

“Am I on?” Coffey demanded.

“Yes, sir.”

President Coffey spoke into the microphone. “Congressman Dawson, this is President David Coffey. Can you hear me?”

“Mr. President, this is Dawson. I hear you. I have an offer of conditional surrender from the Herdmaster.”

Je

“Surrender,” Toland muttered. “We must have hurt them.”

Admiral Carrell waved impatiently.

The President said, “What terms?”

Wes Dawson’s laugh sounded half mad. It could have been simply static. “That’s the stumbling point, all right. Here are the terms. We call off the attack. The enemy, the Traveler Herd, will vacate Earth immediately. They’ll vacate the solar system as soon as possible. What we’ll have to do to bring that about involves building them a—” Dawson stopped, then seemed to sputter. “A siskyissputh. They threw their own siskyissputh away while rounding the Sun, so that we couldn’t examine it. It’s a modified Bussard ramjet. Get a technical expert to explain that to you. It’s the key to the stars, and when we’ve built theirs we’ll know how to build one for ourselves.

“The Herdmaster has offered these terms, not the formal surrender of his herd. I am not to have my foot on any fi’s chest. This was made clear. Do you understand?”

“I understand. Have you a time period for the evacuation of Earth?”

“No. I’m not sure they can enforce it anyway. The fithp can split into smaller herds, and it’s possible the ones in Africa won’t leave…”

“Dawson! Dawson, come in, Dawson!”

“Africa can take care of itself,” General Toland said. “Hell, the snouts can’t fight with nobody to drop meteors for them. Let the Zulus have ’em.”

“No threat to us, agreed,” Admiral Carrell said. “Did they cut Dawson off?”

“Dawson here. They didn’t want me to say that. They should have let me finish. The ones in Africa won’t matter! They’ll be glad to call a truce. They don’t want Kansas. Mr. President, I ca

“Wes, we’re in communication with the Archangel. The commander is General Gillespie. They expect to destroy the enemy mother ship within two hours. Certainly we know what’s happening.”

“The Herdmaster wants me to repeat the offer. You call off — what did you call it? Archangel? Good name! You call off Ed Gillespie, and they’ll use the digit ships to rescue Michael and the smaller ships. Everyone who wants to leave Africa will get a chance. Any that stay won’t be a problem. They’ll tell us how to build an interstellar drive. Mr. President, they’re prepared to destroy all the plans for that drive. They’ve been pla

“Should we take this offer?” the President asked.

“I’m sorry, President Coffey. I don’t know enough and it’s not my choice. They made a previous offer I decided not to transmit. Mr. President, they’ll give you — it’s about ten minutes. They say they’re mobilizing to fight Archangel, I don’t know what with. They say that once they start doing that they will have no reason to surrender.”

“Are they listening to me? Can they understand?”

“They’re listening. Some understand.”

“Tell them they will have to wait while I get advice.”

“They understand that, sir.”

“All right. Hang on …”

“They want you to have Archangel stop shooting while you decide. The reason they want to negotiate is to keep you from damaging Thuktun Flishithy, because it’s carrying all their females and childr—”

“Wes. Wes, what’s happened?”

A strange voice, cold, sibilant, spoke. “This is Teacher Takpusseh-yamp. Go seek your advice. We will listen.”

“Get Michael,” Admiral Carrell ordered.

“Can he tell us enough?” President Coffey wondered aloud.

“Whatever he knows, we’ll need to talk with him,” Carrell

“Michael, this is Gimlet. Michael, this is Gimlet.”

“Go ahead, Gimlet.”

Je

“General, we’re pretty certain our codes are good, but you’ll excuse me if I use circumlocutions.”

“Understood.”

Mama wants to kiss and make up. We live in separate houses, only you have to stop projecting di

“Ah-Roger. Tell Big Daddy we don’t have lockjaw yet, but you never know.”

“Michael, have you enough di

“We are ru

“Thank you, Michael. Carry on. Gimlet out.” Admiral Carrell nodded, speaking mostly to himself. “As I thought. If he stops now, they’ll outrun him. Michael fights on while we decide this.”

“Send for Hap Aylesworth, and get me the Threat Team,” the President said.

Nat had been waiting for the phone to ring. “Dreamer Fithp, Nat Reynolds here. We’ve been listening.”

“Mr. Reynolds, your opinion: what do we do about this offer? Accept or let Archangel go for the throat? Bearing in mind that Archangel might not make it.”

The others were crowded close around him, with Harpanet’s huge head protruding between sets of shoulders. They all looked like they were ready to jump down his throat.

Nat said, “Give us five minutes.”