Children of the Fleet (Fleet School #1)(14)
“The IF has no authority on the surface of the Earth or the Moon,” said the man at the desk.
“Authority is one thing,” said Dabeet. “The ability to kill you at will, from space, is something else.” At that moment, another thought occurred to him. “You wanted me because you represent a nation so feeble that no Battle School students or graduates returned to you when the school was disbanded. You must have enemies that you fear, and you hoped that a Battle School commander would make a difference in the war that you know is coming.”
The man at the desk smiled sarcastically. “You know nothing about us.”
Dabeet decided not to mention that he knew the man on the phone was Brazilian. That alone might guarantee that Dabeet would be killed, once he proved to be useless. “I know something about the International Fleet,” said Dabeet. “They aren’t staying out of all the little wars that are poised to start in the next while because they have no authority. If they wanted to enforce the hegemonic peace, they’d do it. Why don’t they? Because they want Earth to be filled with warfare.”
Two seconds of silence.
“What do they gain from that?” asked the man on the telephone.
“Refugees. People who have lost everything, who have fled their homes, and need a place to go. The IF will offer them that place—on colony ships headed for the empty Formic worlds, and then to the new planets they expect to discover and colonize.”
The man at the desk smiled. “Do you seriously expect us to believe that—”
But the man on the phone interrupted. “I can see that this will be the outcome, if not the purpose, of their policy.”
“Lots of little wars, or a handful of big ones,” said Dabeet. “That’s why they let all the Battle School children go home—no, made them go home, even though there were some who would rather have stayed with the Fleet. So that the wars would not be quick, decided by military hardware and raw numbers. Instead, clever commanders will face each other, and the armies and navies will maneuver all over the map, creating more and more refugees with every move they make.”
“So you think that we are the puppets of the IF,” said the Brazilian on the phone.
“Of course you are. Kidnapping me was just one more instance of falling into the IF’s trap.”
Desk Man was not buying it. “You give MinCol far too much credit—he has no authority within the Fleet, he’s merely a vestigial part of the Hegemony.”
“So it is meant to seem,” said Dabeet, thinking more deeply into this story as he talked. “But the vast treasury of the Fleet has not been returned to the nations that paid it as taxes and assessments, has it? That money is being used to build ships. Not warships, but colony ships. Exploration and colonization are the primary activities of the IF. How important is the Minister of Colonization to such a fleet?”
“So he comes all the way to Earth so that he can tempt us to kidnap you,” said Desk Man scornfully.
“You saw my test scores, or why else would you have taken the Minister’s bait?”
“You think that MinCol really means to take you after all?” asked the Brazilian.
“I think that MinCol is still testing me,” said Dabeet, adopting the military title for Graff. “If I can’t talk you out of keeping me or killing me, then I’m not the boy he wants.”
“But the decision isn’t yours,” said Desk Man. “No matter how you plead.”
“This doesn’t depend on my being persuasive. This depends on your recognizing the truth when someone tells it to you—even if it’s an eleven-year-old boy.”
“What truth is that?” asked the Brazilian.
“The IF doesn’t care who wins these wars on Earth. The IF doesn’t care if your nations are swallowed up or destroyed. But you do.”
“Yes,” said Desk Man, “we do.”
“You have me in hopes that I’ll help you win your war. But in the process, you’re being funded by a much larger nation—and whether you win or lose, how much independence do you think you’ll have?” Dabeet decided to roll the dice on telling them what he had figured out. “I know, I know, Brazil has no imperial ambitions. But suppose your little nation chooses a government that no longer wants to be so cooperative with Brazilian foreign policy? Brazil has to act in its own interest. Right now, Brazil’s interest coincides with your own. Whatever happens militarily, however, you will be a tool of Brazilian foreign policy, and you will produce refugees to fill the IF’s colony ships. Which aspects of this were part of your plan for your nation’s future?”
Neither Desk Man nor the Brazilian spoke. For at least half a minute, which felt like forever.
“I have the plan you need,” said Dabeet.
“Your plan,” said Desk Man, “is to sow distrust between our patron and ourselves.”
“His plan,” said the Brazilian, “is to point out to us that no matter what we do, the IF will get what it wants, and nobody else will.”
“You will,” said Dabeet. “There are nine nations capable of launching rockets at escape velocity, without having to use the shuttle system that is still controlled by the IF. These rockets are intended to launch scientific and communications satellites. But what if one of them could send a payload out to L-5, where the Fleet School hovers?”