“Of course,” Thikair said, just a bit impatiently. “How else could a society such as ours survive? For that matter, we’ve seen the same response in every other alien species I can think of! Even the weed-eaters—perhaps especially the weed-eaters!”
“Sir, while the outcome may appear to be the same, the response to which you’re referring proceeds from completely different psychological bases. The herbivore or the omnivore submits not out of honor expectations or as an individual submitting to the leader of his pack. Oh, some of the herbivores—and even more of the omnivores—do have superficially similar psychological inclinations, yielding place to those who have demonstrated by whatever standards a given species may apply, which may include ritual combat between individuals, that he or she is better suited to lead. And, for that matter, more entitled on the basis of that demonstrated superiority—once again, for the overall good of the herd—to pass on his or her genetic heritage. Our own psychology incorporates its own shadow of that same thinking. But when an herbivore or omnivore submits to demonstrated strength from outside the herd, it’s a combination of fear response and the individual’s subordination to the well-being of the herd as a whole, not an acknowledgment of natural, demonstrated superiority. He—or she—submits both to prevent his or her own destruction and to avoid provoking attacks from the enemy upon the rest of the herd. That’s why in extreme circumstances individuals will allow themselves to be killed—often without even token resistance—in order to deflect threat from the rest of the herd.
“But humans don’t think that way. In fact, you’re correct; a society such as ours could not survive among humans. Their instinct to submit is enormously weaker than our own, and it’s far superseded by the individual’s drive to defeat threats to his primary loyalty group—which is neither the pack nor the herd.”
“What?” Thikair blinked at her, and her ears waved in a grimace.
“A human’s primary loyalty is to his family grouping, Sir. Not to the herd, of which the family forms only a small part. And not to the pack, where the emphasis is on strength and value to the pack. There are exceptions, but that orientation forms the bedrock of human motivation. You might think of them almost as . . . as a herd composed of individual packs of predators. Humans are capable of extending that sense of loyalty beyond the family grouping—to organizations, communities, to nation-states or philosophies—but the fundamental motivating mechanism of the individual family is as hardwired into them as submission to the stronger is hardwired into us.”
She paused for a moment, looking at him, as if giving him an opportunity to digest that incomprehensible concept, then cleared her throat and continued in a harsher voice.
“That fundamental difference is bad enough, Sir, yet I’m afraid there’s worse. Most human cultures I’ve so far been able to study lack even the same sort of fear-coupled pseudo-submission response we’ve observed in the vast majority of the Hegemony’s herbivores and omnivores. They share the same fight-or-flight auto response, and the majority of them will usually choose to flee from an opponent they believe they cannot defeat or which they believe has the capacity to injure them badly even if they might triumph in the end. Even that response is trumped by that loyalty to the family group, however. Unlike herbivores who will abandon the individual to protect the whole, humans will run enormous risks—even to large numbers of their ‘herd’ or extra-family societal groupings—to save individuals. Thousands of them will turn out to search for a single lost individual, especially a lost cub, even in conditions which place the searchers themselves at grave risk, and even when the searchers know the likelihood of finding the one for whom they search alive is effectively nonexistent. They will send enormous parties of rescuers into collapsing mines in efforts to rescue far smaller numbers of trapped workers who are almost certainly dead before the effort is even mounted.
“Sir, I realize how bizarre this all sounds, yet I’ve compiled hundreds of cases of human beings running into burning buildings or other deadly peril to rescue cubs who have as yet made no demonstrated contribution whatsoever to their society—to their herd or their pack. Indeed, total strangers will voluntarily put their own lives in peril to rescue other parents’ young. Worse, my research indicates that a very large percentage of humans will attack any foe, regardless of its strength or power, in defense of their own mates or young. And they will do it with no regard whatsoever for the implications to the rest of their pack or herd. They simply don’t care. It never even occurs to them to think in those terms. Indeed, these humans are so mad by our standards that they consider other humans who are not willing to run such risks for their own mates and young insane, or at least so cowardly as to be beneath the contempt of any ‘right-thinking’ human.”
Thikair felt as if someone had just hit him over the head with a club. He looked at her, trying to wrap his mind around the bizarre psychology she was trying to explain. Intellectually, he could grasp it, at least imperfectly; emotionally, it made no sense at all.
“Fleet Commander,” she continued, “I’ve administered all the standard psychological exams. As you directed, I’ve also experimented to determine how responsive to neural education techniques humans might be, and I can report that our neural educators work quite well. Indeed, they work better with humans than with the majority of the Hegemony’s species. But my opinion, based on the admittedly imperfect and incomplete psychological profile I’ve so far been able to construct, suggests to me that it would be the height of folly to use humans as a client race.
“They will never understand the natural submission of the weaker to the stronger. It is not, as we had assumed, evidence of knowingly dishonorable conduct on their part, either. It’s simply the way their minds work. Instead of submitting to the stronger, they will work unceasingly to become the stronger, and not for the purpose of assuming leadership of the pack. Some of them, yes, will react very like we Shongairi might. Others may react in fashions which approach the pseudo-submission of a weed-eater. Still others may very well seek to feign submission. But most will see the function of strength as the protection of their primary loyalty group. They will focus their energy on destroying any and all threats to it, even when attempting to destroy the threat in itself risks destruction of the group, and they will never forget or forgive a threat to that which they protect. They will see the infliction of losses, especially within their own primary family loyalty groups, not as a reasonable demonstration of the reasons for submission to their superiors, but as an unforgivable act. As an offense which must be avenged, not as a demonstration which must be accepted.
“Sir, we might be able to enforce temporary obedience, and it’s possible we could actually convince many of them to accept us as their natural masters. As I say, they have many societal and cultural templates, and some of them may prove more amenable than others. Yet we will never convince all of them of that, and my judgment, based on what I’ve already determined about their fundamental psychology, is that in the fullness of time that same hardwired loyalty to the family above all will reemerge in the children or grandchildren even of those who might themselves genuinely submit to us. And so, even if we ultimately succeed in compelling them to yield, they will never—can never—truly surrender. And if we attempt to use whatever quirk in their makeup empowers their insane inventiveness, it will only mean we’ll eventually find our ‘clients’ turning upon us with all the inventiveness and ferocity we’ve observed out of them here, but with all our own technological capabilities . . . as a starting point.”
• • • • •
“It would appear,” Thikair told his senior officers, “that my approach to this planet was not the most brilliant accomplishment of my career.”
They looked back at him, most still obviously bemused by Shairez’s report. None of them, he reflected, had reacted to it any better than he had.
“Clearly,” he continued, “it’s necessary to reevaluate our policy—my policy—in light of the Ground Base Commander??
?s discoveries. And, frankly, in light of our already severe operational losses.
“Our efforts to date to compel the humans to submit have killed somewhere over half the original planetary population and cost us massive losses of our own. Ground Force Commander Thairys’ current estimate is that if we continue operations for one local year, we will have lost three-quarters of his personnel and in excess of ninety percent of his original combat and support ground vehicles. In that same time period, we will have killed over half the remaining humans. It seems evident that even if Ground Base Commander Shairez’s model is in error, we cannot sustain losses at that level. Nor, assuming her model is as accurate and insightful as her previous work has always been, would we dare risk providing such a . . . recalcitrant species with access to modern technology after killing more than nine in twelve of them first.”
There was silence in the conference room as he surveyed their faces.
“The time has come to cut our losses,” he said flatly. “I’m not prepared to give up this planet, not after the price we’ve already paid for it. But at the same time, I’ve concluded that humans are too dangerous. Indeed, faced with what we’ve discovered here—which amply confirms the Council’s reaction to the initial survey reports—I believe many of the Hegemony’s other races would share that conclusion! Certainly it’s clear Vice-Speaker Koomaatkia would, and in this instance I feel confident the Kreptu’s reaction would be shared fully by the Garm, the Howsanth, the Traighor, and the Cherail. For that matter, even the Barthoni and the Liatu would feel nothing but relief if . . . something were to happen to the humans, whatever their official, sanctimonious position might be.”
He looked around the table once more, watching understanding struggle with the aftershocks of Shairez’s astounding report, then drew a deep breath.
“I’ve decided to implement our backup strategy and develop a targeted bioweapon,” he said even more flatly. “There are obvious potential consequences to such a decision on my part. Despite the fact that the Barthoni and Liatu are obviously horrified by what they know of humans, the ‘progressives’ among them already hate and despise us, as well. There will be great pressure upon their political leaders to ‘take a stand’ against this fresh evidence of Shongair ‘murderousness.’ We’ve all had enough experience with their enlightened views to know that much!”
He half bared a canine in a derisive challenge grin, and one or two of his senior officers actually chuckled.
“At the same time, however,” he continued, “those same political leaders will in fact be deeply relieved that someone else has removed the threat these humans might ultimately prove. And I feel confident that if any of them press the Council too hard, the more . . . pragmatic Council members, like Vice-Speaker Koomaatkia, will seek to dissuade them. Especially if the Emperor should hint that he’s prepared to make public certain recordings of conversations between Koomaatkia and Minister for Colonization Vairtha. Under the circumstances, I very much doubt our critics—on the Council, at least—would care to have their sanctimonious hypocrisy exposed so long as we can provide them with even the most threadbare of excuses to simply accept whatever happens here.
“Accordingly, I’ve decided it would be as well for us to establish as clearly as possible that the release of our bioweapon was completely ‘accidental’ and no part of any deliberate policy to exterminate this pestiferous species. That will provide those hypocrites with the cover they need to avoid asking any inconvenient questions which might inadvertently unmask their own sanctimony in allowing—no, encouraging—us to conquer the humans in the first place. Which is why I’ve determined the research will be conducted in your ground base, Ground Base Commander Teraik.”
Thikair turned and looked directly at the officer in command of Ground Base Two Alpha. Teraik looked back alertly, but it was clear he was a bit perplexed by the logic behind Thikair’s choice of his base.
“I have three primary reasons for that decision,” Thikair explained, still gazing into Teraik’s eyes. “First, I have complete faith in your capabilities. Second, your base’s ZOR comes closest to any of our zones here in North America to having been suitably pacified. Third, we will be able to point out to any ‘impartial investigators’ the Council might assign to this case that because we were forced to put your base’s facilities together out of whatever was left over from the original Ground Base Two’s destruction, your equipment was, perhaps, in less than perfect condition and so more prone to ‘accidental failure.’”
Teraik’s ears flicked in acknowledgment, but he still looked a little unsure, and Thikair drew an unobtrusive breath.
“I realize your zone isn’t truly pacified,” he said, managing to keep himself from sounding overly patient with a slightly slow subordinate. “Nonetheless, you’ve established at least the skeleton of a proper relationship with the local ruler—with ‘Governor Howell,’ I believe he’s called. It ought to be possible with only minor editing of our reports to make it clear that he’s been earnestly and loyally cooperating with us for the last two local months.
“Of course, I’ve reviewed his ‘submission’ in light of Ground Base Commander Shairez’s discoveries, and it now seems clear that his apparent cooperation has in fact been the result of a feigned submission. It has undoubtedly given him access to a great deal of information no other human spy could have obtained, not to mention offering him still other advantages. Indeed, several things which had been puzzling me become much clearer looked at from that perspective. For example, I believe I now understand why decisions which worked to the benefit of the humans in his area of authority were always implemented so much more speedily and efficiently than decisions which worked to our benefit in the same area.” Thikair’s ears smiled grimly. “With my vision now cleared by the Ground Base Commander’s findings, it seems painfully evident to me that one of the reasons he chose to ‘submit’ in the first place was to insinuate himself into our confidence, put himself into a position to achieve exactly that sort of manipulation and interference. Indeed, Ground Base Commander Shairez has pointed out to me that there is actually a specific human word—‘sabotage’—which undoubtedly sums up his true motivation for appearing so helpful to us.”
Several of the officers around the table bared gleaming canines at the thought of such dishonorable behavior, but Thikair raised a restraining hand.
“I share your disgust at such actions,” he assured them, “but bear in mind that from his perspective, they were not dishonorable. I realize no Shongair will ever truly be able to understand such a warped view of the universe, yet that doesn’t make it untrue. Despite that, I naturally share your desire to punish him as fully as his actions deserve under our code of honor. Unfortunately, since my objective in selecting Ground Base Two Alpha as the site for our ‘accident’ is to allow us to argue that we would never intentionally have attacked the one area on the entire planet where our pacification program was clearly working, I can scarcely order the local native ruler executed for treachery and his body parts distributed to our officers’ messes, however much he might deserve it. It would undermine too much of our cover story’s believability.”
Some of his officers still appeared disgruntled, and he didn’t blame them a bit. He didn’t rebuke them, either. In fact, his ears rose in a slow, gloating smile.
“Oh, no,” he told them softly. “It would never do to execute him for his treachery. On the other hand, Ground Base Commander Shairez tells us that these creatures’ primary loyalty is to their own family groups. That being so, I see no reason our bioweapon couldn’t be ‘accidentally released’ in his home first.”
. XXVIII .
“Move it! Move it! Damn it, Vanya—move it!”
Pieter Ushakov had no idea how he’d found the breath to shout at Ivan Kolesnikov. A corner of his brain reflected that he shouldn’t be able to—no one running as hard as he was running was supposed to have breath for anything but panting.
Of course, he’d discovered over th
e past months that enough adrenaline could overcome almost anything.
Another explosion thundered, and that corner of his brain which was still thinking instead of concentrating on dodging the next tree and not falling over his own feet cringed. The explosions were coming closer, and another thing he’d discovered was that whatever their other weaknesses, the Shongairi were no slouches when it came to laying in mortar fire. Their weapons were long-ranged, powerful, and accurate. They seemed to fire a little more slowly than their human counterparts, but they made up for it with an enviable assortment of ammunition. So far he’d encountered or observed at least two different high-explosive variants, incendiary rounds, smoke, one that deployed really nasty antipersonnel submunitions, and another which dispensed what looked (judging from the condition of the corpses) like a quick-acting and effective neurotoxin.
Fortunately, they didn’t seem to have a lot of the latter. Either that, or they had to get release from higher command authority before they used it. On the other hand, it was obvious they had no shortage of HE.