The fleet came in at four o'clock.GENERALS HELP
THEMSELVES
By M. C. Pease
"Did it go well?" the aideasked.
The admiral, affectionatelyknown as the Old Man, did not replyuntil he'd closed the door,crossed the room, and dropped intothe chair at his desk. Then he said:
"Go well? It did not go at all.Every blasted one of them, from thePresident on down, can think ofnothing but the way the Combineover-ran Venus. When I mentionP-boats, they shout that the Venusiansdepended on P-boats, too, andgot smashed by the Combine'sdreadnoughts in one battle. 'Youcan't argue with it, man,' they tellme. And they won't listen."
"But the Venusians fought theirP-ships idiotically," the aide complained."It was just plain silly tolet small, light, fast ships slug it outwith dreadnoughts. If they hadused Plan K—"
The Old Man snorted.
"Are you trying to convince me?I've staked my whole reputation onPlan K. They wouldn't give me themoney to build a balanced space-fleet,even when the fleets of theCombine of Jupiterian SatelliteStates were staring them in theface. So, I took what I could getand poured it into P-boats. I threwall our engineering and scientificstaff into making them faster andmore maneuverable than anyoneever thought a space-ship could be.I got them to build me electroniccomputers that could direct thatspeed. And, two years ago, everycent I could lay my hands on wentto install the computers on all ourships."
"I remember," the aide said.
"But, now the chips are down,the people have funked out on me.I am one of the most hated men inthe Federation. They say I destroyedtheir Navy. And, we are notgoing to get a chance to try Plan K.They decided, today, to accept theCombine's offer to send envoys ina month to discuss possible revisionof the Treaty of Porran. When Ileft, they were wondering if therewas any chance of getting out forless than Base Q."
"But, good lord, sir, Base Q suppliesnine tenths of all our power.The Combine will have a stranglehold on us, if they get that."
"Quite. But the people will giveit to them, rather than fight. Andthe President will sign."
"Surely, sir, the people are notall cowards?"
"No. If they had time to think,they would fight. That's why theCombine is striking now. The peopleare panicky. Hysterical. Thecollapse of Venus was so sudden,and the disaster to their P-boats socomplete. They've just lost hope.Most people would rather live undera dictator than die to no purpose.They've just lost hope."
The pounding of the Old Man'sfist measured his words and thedepth of his anger.
"If we could only make themhope. Somehow. Anyhow."
Suddenly, his clenched fiststopped in mid-air. He frowned.Slowly, his hand opened. The frownrelaxed and a smile replaced it.
"Maybe we can, at that. Maybewe can." He leaned back with hiseyes half closed. His aide knew betterthan to interrupt him. Ten minuteslater, he opened his eyes.
"Make arrangements to haveCommander Morgan take commandof Base Q as soon as possible.Within two days at the outside."His manner was curt and clipped."And bring him here to me beforehe leaves."
"Yes, sir. But may I say, sir, I donot understand?"
"You're not supposed to."
"Yes, sir."
The aide was a competent man.Orders were written that afternoon,in complete disregard of normalred-tap