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A somber group gathered in
Ruptured Whale
’s wardroom. The whole shore party -- Dan Landon, Mikhail Vasloff, Lisa Arden, and Mark Rykand -- sat around the long table and stared somberly at one another. Raoul Bendagar and Laura Dresser completed the group. The mood in the compartment reminded Bendagar of a funeral. It was a thought he was careful not to express aloud.

The hatch opened and Sar-Say stepped through. In the corridor beyond, the four guards who had escorted him were momentarily visible. They stayed outside and closed the hatch after the alien. Sar-Say moved to stand before the humans. He looked at each in turn with unblinking, yellow eyes.

After the uncomfortable silence had gone on for a dozen seconds, Dan Landon said coldly, “Good afternoon, Sar-Say.”

“Afternoon, Captain,” Sar-Say replied affably.

“By now you have probably figured out that we are on our way to rendezvous with
Columbus
and
Magellan
.”

“Yes. We have been under thrust too long for anything else.”

“Do you want to know why we left Klys’kra’t in such a hurry?”

“I have been wondering that very thing these past four hours.”

“Mark, please tell our guest about your beer-drinking buddy.”

“Yes, sir.” Mark avoided eye contact with Sar-Say, and then fixed the alien with his coldest stare when he realized what he was doing. “I met an interesting being aboard Zal’trel Station. You would have liked him. Big blue fellow, garrulous. He told me quite a story…”

Sar-Say nodded. His worst fears were confirmed. It was time to jettison all that had gone before and to start boldly anew. It was time to rub the humans’ muzzles in the hard facts of the universe. They were not fools. They could think logically when forced to do so, and if the problem was not overly complex. He willed his hearts to slow their pounding and regarded his inquisitors.

He was reminded of an ancient human movie he had watched on the ship’s entertainment system the previous month, one that chronicled the life of a human ruler named Cesare Borgia. Most human entertainments left him cold, but this one had struck a chord. The situation in Renaissance Italy reminded him of home, especially the court intrigues. He had been especially struck by the motto on the Borgia family crest -
The Die is Cast
. Somehow, it had never seemed more appropriate than at this very moment.

Drawing air through his breathing holes to provide extra oxygen to his brain, and hopefully, to sharpen his wits, Sar-Say said, “You met a Taff trader. He told you my true identity.”

Mark nodded. “Then you admit that you are a Broa?”

“I do.”

“What was that thing you painted for us?”

“An animal from a world I once visited. It is non-sentient, but ferocious looking to human eyes. That is why I chose it as a model for what we Broa look like.”

“What did you hope to accomplish by this charade, Sar-Say?” Raoul Bendagar asked.

The alien imitated a human shrug. “I hoped to gain Earth as my personal possession.”

“You are one brave alien, I’ll give you that,” Landon muttered.

“Thank you, Captain. Among those of us who would rule all creation, that is high praise. Of course, I am one of the actual lords of creation. You humans merely believe yourselves to be.”

Laura Dresser, who had been quietly absorbing events as they unfolded, cleared her throat and said, “I am sorry, Sar-Say, but there are some things that I don’t understand. Would you please clear them up for me?”

“Of course.”

“If you are a Broa, what was going on in the New Eden system when you popped up in range of
Magellan
with a Broan Avenger on your tail?”

“We Broa have our internal intrigues and rivalries, just as you do. I cannot tell you which of my rivals sent that ship to ambush me while I was traveling from Vith to Persilin. All I know is that they came at us as we were preparing to jump from one system to another, and the rest -- as you humans say -- is history.”

“When we boarded your ship to salvage it, we noted that the damage, while extensive, was not sufficient to have killed the crew. A hatch blew out at the same time all of the safety doors failed open, and depressurized the ship. It has always struck me as being a sloppy way to engineer a spaceship.”

“I depressurized the ship at the same time I wiped the computer memory.”

“So you were the cause of the computer malfunction!”

“I was.”

“Then what were you doing down in engineering when you nearly fried yourself nine months ago?”

“Mark was getting too close to discovering that the data had been deleted intentionally. I was trying to destroy the computer. Unfortunately, as I told you at the time, I am not a technical expert. I honestly had no idea of how much electricity I was setting loose. Had I known better, I would have made sure that I was not grounded before punching through the power cell.”

“Okay, so that was an accident,” Laura Dresser conceded. “You didn’t kill your crew or erase the computer by accident. Why do it at all?”

“To hide my true identity from those who defeated the Avenger.”

“You mean you knew there were humans onboard
Magellan
?”

“You presume too much,” Sar-Say said with the gesture that Lisa recognized as signifying wry amusement. “I was never so surprised as when I realized that my ‘rescuers’ did not recognize what I was. No, I thought you were from some star within the Sovereignty. I merely wanted to hide my clan and sept in case you humans were in league with my enemies. My best chance for doing that was if I were the sole survivor and there were no records for you to consult aboard ship.”

“You sacrificed your crew on the mere chance that they would complicate your lie?”

“Yes. As it turned out, their sacrifice proved necessary.”

Lisa frowned. She was the human Sar-Say knew the best, and the one whose facial expression he could read most easily. She had worn a pained expression ever since he had entered the wardroom. “Sar-Say, I have a question, if you don’t mind.”

“I am in no position to mind.”

“You knew that we were from outside the Sovereignty when I first moved into your quarters, right?

Apparently, you had already learned quite a bit of our language. You knew that we were ignorant of the Broa and of the situation out here in the Orion Arm.”

“All of this is true.”

“So if you could have told us just about any story and we would have believed it, why did you tell us the truth? You scared the daylights out of us. You could as easily have concocted some fairytale and we would have walked unsuspecting into your species’ clutches.”

“I considered fabricating a story, but I did not want you to catch me in a lie. Among my people, we have computers that analyze semantic content, looking for inconsistencies that indicate when someone is lying.

You have the same, although not as advanced. With such systems, it is impossible to sustain a complicated lie for very long. I decided to mask the lie about who I was with a much larger truth.”

“My compliments,” Dan Landon said. “You almost got away with it. What would you have done if we’d allowed you contact with the Voldar’ik?”

“I would have ordered them to seize you and this ship the moment I set foot onboard their station.”

“Not exactly grateful that we saved your life, are you?”

“I am well aware of my debt to you humans. However, in this matter I would have had no choice. The Voldar’ik would know what I was as soon as they saw me and would have reacted accordingly. The moment I stepped into view, my masquerade would have been over.”

“What makes you think we would have allowed ourselves to be taken without a fight?”

“So long as I made good my escape, it would not matter whether the Voldar’ik succeeded or failed. If you had escaped, you would have found a Broan fleet waiting for you when you returned to Sol.”

“Then you
do
know where Sol is?”

“Not personally. However, I have memorized the location in human coordinates of the one hundred most prominent features in the galaxy. Surely it would not have been difficult to convert your coordinate system into our own.”

“Not bloody difficult at all,” Lisa muttered.

“Why are you telling us this?” Landon asked. “You must know it is not helping your case.”

Sar-Say shrugged. “There is no reason to deceive you any longer. Deception is no longer feasible. No, honesty is now called for. It is a tactic that just might work under these circumstances.”

“Work to what purpose?”

For the first time since entering the wardroom, Sar-Say deflected their question with one of his own.

“What are your plans for me? Will you kill me outright, or merely lock me up in a zoo for the rest of my life?”

“We haven’t thought about it.”

“Before you decide, I have something to say.”

“Go ahead. I think you should know, however, that no one will believe you.”

“You will believe this, Captain. The truth of my statements will be self evident.”

“Are you pleading for mercy?”

“Not at all,” Sar-Say replied, pulling himself to his full 150-centimeter height. “I intend to make you a counteroffer.”

#

“Go ahead, we are listening.”

Sar-Say nodded. “Very well. Until that day in the New Eden system, you humans believed yourselves alone among intelligent races. It is no surprise, then, that you have developed some odd ideas about your own importance in the universe. In fact, it is common for isolated species to develop delusions of grandeur.

“Unfortunately, reality is quite a bit different than you imagined it. You have seen the wealth and power of the Voldar’ik. That is
our
wealth and power. So, too, are the products of a million other star systems.

The truth is that no matter how valiant you humans are, no matter how skilled in battle, you have no chance against us. Those Who Rule can easily muster 100,000 Avenger-class warcraft to send against Sol once they discover your existence. How many can you muster to defend your world?”

Landon’s reply was laconic. “Not that many.”

Sar-Say gestured toward the white-haired man whose scowl transfixed him. “Mr. Vasloff has made a career of preaching the danger to humans of leaving your cradle and coming out to the stars. The danger is greater than even he has imagined.

“My friends, you must consider the objective reality of your situation and put aside your childish delusions. Frankly, you are nothing. You are a tribe of howling, primitive, South Sea islanders who fancy that their stone-tipped spears might be effective against space dreadnoughts. I can assure you that any such effort is worse than futile. It is suicidal. If Those Who Rule find your species difficult to subjugate, they will not conquer Earth. They will sterilize it!”

Dan Landon smiled grimly. “I take it this is the buildup to the offer, Sar-Say. Perhaps you can spare us the bombast and just get on with it.”

“I think we know who is speaking bombast, Captain Landon. However, as you wish. My offer is this. If you will turn this ship around and take me back to Zal’trel Station, then I will guarantee your individual lives during the assimilation. You will be well treated and live in comfort for the rest of your days. I give you my word on that. The alternative is that you will die with your species.”

“You are hardly in a position to make threats.”

“Nor do I make one now. I am merely explaining the way things work. If you release me, I will lay claim to your planet for my clan and myself. By Broan custom, that will make you my chattels, to do with as I choose, within certain broad limits, of course.”

“You would register us like a gold mining claim?” Mikhail Vasloff asked.

“An apt analogy. Yes, I would register you like a gold mining claim.”

“We would still be under the Broan yoke.”

“There is no choice in that. A wild star system represents too great a danger to my species to be tolerated.”

“And you are suggesting that we cooperate in our own enslavement?”

“Is not enslavement preferable to extinction? I have studied you humans and I can tell you that you are not prime candidates for subservience. In fact, you are about the least suitable species I have yet met.

You are haughty, proud, and do not bow your heads easily. A less patient Broa, or one with less to gain, might decide that you are not worth the effort.”

“So we six are to be your personal slaves?”

“Yes. I can promise that each of you will be treated with kindness.”

“That is mighty big of you!”

“Sarcasm is not warranted. Either you accept me as your master or else you take your chances with Those Who Rule. That is my offer.”

“We could hide,” Vasloff said, harshly.

“Perhaps,” Sar-Say agreed. “For awhile. However, the Sovereignty expands year by year and eventually we will find you. It is inevitable.”

“Are you through?” Dan Landon asked.

“Not quite yet,” Sar-Say replied. “There is one other consideration. You have seen Klys’kra’t. You know that save for their yearly tribute, they live out their lives unmolested. There is no reason that Earth cannot one day enjoy the same … shall we say, semi-autonomy? That cannot happen immediately, of course. You have too many independent tendencies that must be weeded out first. However, later, after the eugenics program has had an opportunity to work, there is no reason that your people cannot be as effectively free as the Voldar’ik.”

“Any other thoughts on the future of humanity?”

“I could go on for quite a bit longer, but I can see that you wish to speak among yourselves. Thank you for listening. Now, if you will recall the guards, I will return to my cabin to await your answer. When considering my words, I urge you to think with your brains and not with your glands.

“The fate of humanity depends on your decision.”

No one spoke for more than a minute after Sar-Say left. The tension in the compartment had risen to the point where it felt like a hot, heavy blanket that sapped the will and deadened the mind. There seemed nothing more to say. God was alive and well and a pseudo-simian. The hopes and dreams of a million generations of men and women had been smashed on the rocks of reality. Life had turned out to be about nothing more than the perpetuation of a single, favored chain of chromosomes, and the golden pattern had not evolved on Planet Earth.