Warfare weakens. It generates chaos, crisis and unknowns in abundance. Battle is apt to compromise both psychic and physical integrity, and a predisposition to favor the enemy may further weaken your resolve to prosecute your duty.
This last factor is often ignored when we study warfare which sees the warrior locked into machines kept parsecs apart.
However, while the Nexus does train for intergalactic and transcosmic warfare, the military reality of the last millennium has been that most active operations involve civil interventions undertaken as a response to political or religious extremism.
Here we must consider the human element: and here note that the tactics of empathy are of particular value when your own resolve is weak.
Unfortunately humans cannot be taken out of the loop, least of all when dealing with the Nu-chala-nuth, who reject the authority of machines over humans. In any case, one could not, for example, entrust a dorgi with the task of policing the streets of any of the cities of the Nu-chala-nuth in the aftermath of one of the periodic upheavals inspired by that religion. So we rely upon the warrior.
If you are of the Nu-chala-nuth, then in the supervision of members of your own faith you may find that your discharge of your duty to the Nexus is difficult. This is an extreme case, but for any given individual we can wargame a situation in which that individual's loyalties will be divided.
In pitched battle, this may be of small account, but it matters greatly in civil interventions, which tend to revolve around negotiations. You as an officer of the Nexus may one day find yourself endeavoring to discharge your duty in a situation in which you have a predisposition to support the enemy in defiance of your duty.
Under such circumstances, you should attend first to the emotional dynamics of the negotiation scenario. If you can befriend your opposite number then that person will tend to refrain from using those tactics which will be most hurtful to you. Here we ask you to understand the first rule of the Characterization of the Enemy: the Enemy is someone to respect. As you come to understand the horrors of total war and the methods which can be used to avoid it, you will begin to understand the importance of this characterization. – from the Book of Negotiations So was it then a slip which let The hero fall and long odds claim the day?
Or was the one sword sharper, or the sand Made partial by its hungers?
"So what's Lon Oliver going to argue?" said Hatch.
"I've no idea," said Paraban Senk.
"Can we be heard?" said Hatch. "Right now, I mean? By those in Forum Three?"
"They get to watch you while you're in the illusion tanks," said Senk. "They get a full-color full-sound split-screen presentation of the battles. But right now you've got a guarantee of privacy."
"Then while we're closeted together in private," said Hatch, "let's talk about Dalar ken Halvar."
"Why?"
"Because there's revolution in Dalar ken Halvar."
"Why should I worry about that?" said Senk.
"Because it's going to compromise your ability to fulfill your mission," said Hatch. "Your mission to train Startroopers for the Nexus."
"So?" said Senk. "I thought I'd made my position on that clear. Some lawful authority will establish itself swiftly in the city, and I will then deal with that authority."
"So," said Hatch, "let's talk about dealing. Obviously it's something you've got to do, so why not now rather than later? Why not deal with someone you know, someone you trust, rather than someone unknown and untested? Why not manipulate the situation in Dalar ken Halvar rather than taking whatever random leadership gets thrown up by the present disorder? Senk, if you're willing, then I'd like to cut a deal. If you make me the instructor, I'll do my level best to restore order in Dalar ken Halvar and help you fulfill your mission."
"I thought you didn't want to be instructor," said Senk.
"What gave you that idea?" said Hatch.
"Lon Oliver gave me that idea," said Senk. "He told me today that you offered to sell him the instructorship. You invited him to bribe you. Lon Oliver asked me to disqualify you from this competition on that account."
"But you didn't," said Hatch.
"That's right," said Senk. "I didn't. Even so, the information made me doubt the strength of your commitment to the Nexus."
"You're not saying you believe Lon Oliver, are you?" said Hatch.
"You're not denying the truth of his accusations, surely."
"Of course I am!" said Hatch. "It's a nonsense, an utter nonsense, the whole lot of it."
"Perhaps," said Senk. "But Lon Oliver was very persuasive.
He makes much of the fact that the Silver Emperor is missing."
"Temporarily, perhaps," said Hatch. "But – "
"He tells me," said Senk, "that the Free Corps is going to end up in effective control of Dalar ken Halvar. I'm inclined to believe him, Hatch. I've come to a decision. As you say, I've got to do deals with whoever ends up in control of Dalar ken Halvar, and I may as well start now. So I'm starting. I've decided that it's best that Lupus Lon Oliver becomes the instructor."
"So you're going to adjudicate in his favor," said Hatch.
"That depends on what argument you put up," said Paraban Senk. "But I give you fair warning. If you fight with Lupus Lon Oliver a third time, then I'm going to ensure that you go down to defeat. I'm going to ensure that you die."
"Die?" said Hatch.
"Yes, die," said Senk. "I'm going to ensure that you meet with your death. First you'll die in the world of the illusion tanks, and then you'll die in the fact of the flesh."
"And how do you propose manage that?" said Hatch.
"Wait and see," said Senk. "Wait and see."
"The initiation seat," said Hatch. "Is that how you're going to do it? Kill me with the initiation seat?"
"That's for you to work out," said Senk. "Think about it, Hatch. Think about it."
Hatch did think about it. He thought about it fiercely all the way to Forum Three. Kill him. Senk was going to kill him. But how? With the initiation seat? Maybe, maybe. Or. Or what?
– Purpose.
The hotbright thought burnt bright in Hatch's mind. Purpose.
What was the purpose of deciding the instructorship through trial by combat? Hatch knew the answer to that. Dalar ken Halvar understood trial by combat. Everyone could understand that. So the instructor who triumphed over all others was graced with an authority which everyone in Dalar ken Halvar could understand.
– Assume that Senk wants Lupus as instructor.
– Senk will want Lupus to win authority through triumph in battle.
– So.
So the implication was that Paraban Senk must ensure that Lupus Lon Oliver defeated Asodo Hatch in combat. In front of witnesses. How could Senk do that?
– The MegaCommand.
The ominous thought rose in Hatch's mind and could not be suppressed. Lupus was much better than Hatch when it came to making war with the MegaCommand.
– But first, the adjudication.
As Hatch entered Forum Three, striding onstage in front of the tiered seating, he was hailed by a familiar voice.
"Wah, Hatch!" cried Beggar Grim.
Beggar Grim was sitting with his comrades Zoplin and X'dex.
All three members of this besognio scumpack had entered the Combat College as the official guests of Asodo Hatch. Deloused, ungrimed and dressed in the limegreen uniforms of beneficiaries of Nexus Welfare, they looked superficially disciplined, but their unruly cheers nullified the effect of the superficialities. Though each had been provided with a double eye-patch to hide empty eye sockets, they had strung these round their necks, and were passing the Eye from hand to hand, from socket to socket.
Master Zoplin socketed the Eye then said, chanting the words:
"I see you loud, I see you clear, I see you killing – kill him, Hatch!"
Hatch acknowledged the beggars' applause, not because he welcomed it but because he knew the gesture would infuriate Lupus.
It did.
Lupus swore at the beggars, who jeered at him, then threw food at him. The strange food of the Nexus which tasted soft in their mouths, like food made to feed some monstrous race of earthdwelling grubs.
Lupus was furious.
"Senk!" said Lupus, addressing the Teacher of Control. "Call them to order!" Then, when there was no reply from Paraban Senk:
"Hatch! Control your filth!"
"Filth!" said Lord X'dex. "Are you referring to me?"
"Of course he is," said Master Zoplin. "You look as if you took a bath in liquid snot then cleaned your ears with a dog turd.
How else should you be called but filth?"
"I am not filth but royalty," said Lord X'dex. "Know me in my might, for I am Lord X'dex Paspilion, master of the Greater Tower of X-n'dix in the mighty kingdom of X-zox Kalada."
"Then know the boy Oliver as your superior," said Beggar Grim, "for he has the greatest of Greater Towers at spring between his thighs, whereas yours is but a worm, and useless, yes, and last month's piss the smell of it."
"I dispute it!" said Lord X'dex. "Come! A trial of proof!
Hey, Oliver-boy! Bring your piss-stick this way!"
"He lingers," said Master Zoplin.
"He knows himself secretly a woman," said Lord X'dex.
"Wherefore he lingers where a man would leap."
"A woman?" said Beggar Grim. "Why, if a woman then all the more reason for leaping, for I am man sufficient to rape him out of his virgin ugliness."
"You will bring your people to order," said Lupus to Hatch, a note of desperation intermixed with his anger.
"Or?" said Hatch.
"The Season starts in a month," said Lupus.
There was only one Season in Dalar ken Halvar, a city where the climate was ever a constant. The Season referred to by Lupus was the three months of the year in which the Grand Arena became a stage for gaudy death and bloody execution.
Lupus's words constituted a challenge. Lupus Lon Oliver was inviting Asodo Hatch to join him on the sands of the Grand Arena where they could duel it out for real, fighting with swords like the atavistic heroes of the more childish entertainments of the Eye of Delusions.
"I await then the start of the Season," said Hatch, with due formality.
It was an empty formality. He would never face Lupus on the sands of the Grand Arena, for their quarrel would be resolved one way or the other much sooner – probably by the mob.
"The day," said Lupus, with conviction, ducking a wodge of tofu thrown at him by Master Zoplin, "cannot come too soon."
The beggars then began to systematically pelt the unfortunate Lupus with all the food at their disposal.
"Settle, settle," said Paraban Senk, calling for order.
But the audience did not settle until the beggars ceased fire, which they only did because they had exhausted their supply of ammunition.
"Lon Oliver," said Paraban Senk, speaking into the relative silence. "State your case."
Whereupon Lupus stated his position very clearly and simply:
"I seek adjudication of my combat with Asodo Hatch," said he.
"If I have been overhearing aright," said Paraban Senk, "then you seek to meet Hatch on the sands in the Season." At this a murmer went up from the audience. Senk ignored it and continued:
"Will you seek to have that battle also resolved by adjudication?"
This hinted of sarcasm, and Hatch was momentarily surprised.
Why would Paraban Senk make Lupus the butt of his sarcasm when he wanted Lupus to be the next instructor? Why – of course! – so nobody would suspect Senk of partiality.
In any case, Lupus was unmoved by Senk's sally.
"I am of the Nexus," said Lupus staunchly, "and seek a resolution of an affair of the Nexus in accordance of the laws of the Nexus. Hatch fled from battle. I demand adjudication. I ask that the combat be awarded to me."
"Is that it?" said Senk. "Is that your case, complete in its entirety?"
"That is all," said Lupus. "It's enough, isn't it?"
"We will see," said Senk. "Asodo Hatch. State your case."
"He has no case!" said Lupus, giving way to anger. His volatility spoke of stress, of uncertainty, of strained nerves and fatigue. "Stop playing games with me, Senk! He ran. He lost."
"That is for him to say," said Senk.
"Fates!" said Lupus, irritated beyond bearing. "You watched it! You've got a record. What more do we need?"
"Motive," said Senk. "Asodo Hatch has a mind for which he must speak because I cannot."
"Battles are not decided by motive," said Lupus. "The combat decides. Decided. Hatch ran."
"On the contrary," said Senk. "The very fact that you are here seeking adjudication is a self-sufficient proof of the fact that this battle was not decided at all. Hence I require from Hatch a statement of his motive – his why for doing what he did.
Hatch."
"My motive was simple," said Hatch. "I desired to bring Lon Oliver to his death. I chose as my weapon of war the very environment itself. I call your attention to the Book of War. It states, does it not – here I paraphrase, but it does so state – that the environment is ever the greatest killer. Is that not what it states? The jungle was my weapon. My weapon of choice. I did not run from battle. Rather, I made a tactical withdrawal calculated to expose Lupus to certain disaster."
"These tactics are orthodox," said Senk.
"Orthodox!" exploded Lupus. "What made him think me meat for death?"
"Hatch?" said Senk.
"I have dwelt in the wilderness," said Asodo Hatch. "I can live there with ease for a day or forever. Lon Oliver has not.
He is a child of the Nexus, soft and weak. My choice of tactics necessarily doomed him down into the jungle. We all know the flight life of a singlefighter. My tactics forced him into the swamp, the snake-heat, the jungle. By my tactics he dies and I claim myself the killer."
"Wah!" said Lupus.
"Hatch has spoken," said Senk. "And you?"
"I stand by my record," said Lupus. "You know my record.
Perhaps you would care to share it with Asodo Hatch."
Senk sighed, and then:
"Asodo Hatch, your tactics displayed audacity and wit, a sound knowledge of your own strengths and points of weakness, and a remarkable degree of originality. Yet you erred in one thing, and that was your assessment of your enemy."
"I erred?"
"Do you think yourself beyond error?"
"But I – "
"Hatch," said Senk, "Lupus has stacked up time in the illusion tanks doing survival training. Wilderness survival training."
"How much time?" said Hatch.
"Seven full days and a fraction in the last standard year," said Senk.
"But that's nothing!" said Hatch.
"Taken as a series of arduous survival sessions of a duration of ten arcs each, it is rather a lot," said Senk.
"Ten arcs is nothing," said Hatch. "It means he's never had to sleep in the wilderness. It means – "
"Hatch," said Senk, with a sharpness of tone which spoke of extreme displeasure.
"My lord," said Hatch, suitably abashed.
"Hatch, I am not your lord, but I am your teacher," said Senk. "Earlier in his training in the Combat College, Lupus Lupus did several long-duration wilderness survival sessions in the illusion tanks. The sessions of the last year were simply refreshers."
So.
Of course.
It was all starting to make sense now.
Lon Oliver was of the Free Corps, and the Free Corps preached a doctrine of the supreme individual, the masterman who could overcome all through intellectual audacity and physical skill. Of course Lupus would be attracted to Ultimate Tests of all kinds, wilderness survival being just one of these.
"Your ruling, then," said Hatch.
"I adjudge the wilderness survival chances of Lon Oliver to be equal to those of Asodo Hatch," said Paraban Senk.
"Accordingly, I adjudicate the results of the last combat session between Lupus and Hatch to be a draw. I award the contestants half a point each. Lon Oliver now has a score of half a point, of 0.5. Asodo Hatch now has a score of 0.5000057."
So Hatch was still leading.
But only just.
"Do you wish to take a rest now?" said Paraban Senk.
"A rest?" said Lupus. "I – "
"The choice is not yours," said Senk, cutting Lupus short.
"I addressed Hatch. He has seniority. The choice is his."
"Seniority?" said Lupus in outrage.
"He was in the Service when you were still bullying your brothers at the bottom of the Heights of Learning," said Senk.
"Hatch. You choose."
Hatch calculated furiously. Paraban Senk had privately stated his partisanship. Senk wanted Lupus to win. Yet Senk had given choice of timing to Hatch. Hatch was strongly motivated to defer the combat, because he wanted to maximize the length of time which his wife, his daughter and his mistress enjoyed the protection of the Combat College. Senk would surely know this, which implied that Senk wanted the combat deferred. Which meant that Senk thought that Lupus would do better if he was given a chance to cool down, a chance to discipline his present anger.
Or perhaps Senk thought Lupus needed to sleep. In Hatch's judgment, Lupus was suffering very badly from lack of sleep.
"What time is it?" said Hatch.
"Midnight has been and gone," said Senk. "The Day of Three Fishes is behind us, and we are entered upon the Day of Two Fishes."
The Day of Two Fishes.
Just two days short of Dog Day.
"But it is not yet dawn?" said Hatch.
"Dawn is still a long ways distant," said Paraban Senk.
"Then," said Hatch, rousing his voice to an artificial vibrancy which masked the true depths of his own fatigue, "since the night is so young, I am ready to fight on further. However, Lupus is young in his own flesh, and it is well known that the young need more sleep than their seniors. Accordingly, it may well be that Lupus would prefer to sleep, even though I for my part am ready to fight on. Since that is so, I defer to the choice of my junior colleague."
Lupus was incensed. He was inflamed and furious at being called junior colleague – but he was now in such a state that he would have been equally enraged even had he been called the hero of the millennium. In his fury, Lupus declared:
"I will fight Hatch now. And I will kill him."
"Then," said Paraban Senk, "let me brief you. No, Hatch!
Don't leave! I will brief you here."
So Asodo Hatch and Lupus Lon Oliver stood fast, and Paraban Senk looked down at them from Forum Three's display screen and told them their doom.