Lester del Rey - The Mysterious Planet

“I don’t know any more than you do,” Juan answered. “I don’t even know why we’re here.

Besides, I was no more a spy than you, Simon, when you stole those secret papers. I just happened to be on the other side. Suppose I tell you, Bob. Would you like some of your questions answered?”

Bob had already guessed many of them, which Juan’s explanation confirmed.

Thule had known that they would have to learn about the race they were meeting in a hurry, and had taken the first chance they found. They had captured a freighter, discovered all they could about the culture, and learned the language spoken in the Federation. A passenger ship later had given them more information. But they still needed more knowledge of military affairs.

Juan had been selected as looking more like an Earthman than anyone else, and a few minor operations had increased his similarity. He had gone with one of the ships then to locate a Federation military vessel and lay a trap for it. When they spotted the flight of Wing Nine, they’d hunted up the nearest freighter and stripped it of all its people and goods. After that, they had moved it to the right position, given it the right speed and course, and Juan had gone aboard, to play the part of the captain’s son, since his errors would be less noticed if he seemed young. He’d sent out the first distress signal, as well as the second, and the whole battle had been faked. But Thule hadn’t known which weapons were real and which were rumored, and their act of being a pirate ship had gone much worse than they expected.

In all other ways, their plan had gone very well. Juan had found a perfect spot for a spy, until he had learned all he could. Then he’d contacted Thule, and arranged for the trap in which the other two were caught. Bob, as the son of a Commander, was a particularly valuable person for their tests.

One of the guards interrupted his account. He nodded, got up and went out.

“Traitor!” Jakes muttered.

Bob grunted. “He isn’t, Simon. In his eyes, he’s a patriot. And you can hate him if you like, but I think he’s a pretty decent guy.”

Simon twisted about uncomfortably, and his face turned red.

“Well—well, doggone it, I never said he wasn’t all right. Only when I think how I treated him just like a human being… Oh, all right.” He stared at the door, and then slowly looked back to Bob, bis face puzzled. “Aw, Bob, I guess I liked the little guy, too. And I liked Emo. Maybe I liked all the Thulians. But I had to put the Federation first, didn’t I?”

“And I had to put the Federation and Thule first, Si,” Bob told him.

The guard came up to them and motioned them to follow him. Jakes got up wearily. “Well, here we go. I wonder how I’ll look in front of a firing squad?”

The presidential chambers were filled with busy men, but a path was cleared for the two boys, and they were led down toward the big desk, which, for the first time was not being used. The desk sat on the platform, but the chair behind it was empty.

The guard led them to a little door off to the side, and opened it, motioning them ahead.

“Simon Jakes and Robert Griffith,” he announced.

Then the president was in front of them, both hands outstretched to them. “Thank you—thank you for bringing Emo back to me. And bless you for bringing him back to Thule. In fact, Simon, thank you for kidnapping him, because without that there would have been no chance to bring him back.”

Jakes’s face mirrored all the things that Bob felt, but he was completely speechless for once. Bob stared in complete disbelief at the beaming face of President Fas-kin. “I don’t get it,” he managed finally. “You don’t look as if you’re joking.”

“I’m not,” Faskin told him. “I was never more serious. Robert, it was the one thing we needed. When Emo was stolen, it was bad—but when he was returned unharmed, and with no conditions, all of Thule was united again. They knew they could trust the men of the Federation, because those men were human—just as they were! You proved that you could give up something representing a long step toward victory for a chance to avoid war, and to do a kindly thing.”

He made a sweeping motion with his arm, and the smile deepened. “It was the final touch to make them

stop fearing the men of the Federation; and without fear, there can be no war.”

Bob stared around the room, and saw his father busy at a small radio control panel. Juan was helping him. Griffith nodded.

“That’s right, Bob. Within ten minutes after you returned, President Faskin was given the power to do what he’d wanted to do all along. I’d guess then the feeling here must have been hanging on pretty even balance between fear and hope, and it only took one good dramatic act to tip the scales. Oh-oh. Here’s Wallingford now.”

The radio had buzzed, and his father picked up a microphone quickly. It was obviously just a local extension of the big set located elsewhere in the city, if its signal was being beamed to Outpost.

“But what about the Federation?” Bob asked slowly. “It takes two sides to make peace.”

Faskin smiled again. “I think you’ll find in a war where there is no greed or hate, but only fear, that one side can manage to make peace, if it wants to. Even when the other side is already set to strike. We’ve just learned that your Outfleet is already near Thule and about to attack us. But listen.”

He switched on a loud-speaker, and Bob heard his father’s voice reading. “… all prisoners will be released at once, including some we didn’t know about. You’ll be given every secret of Thule’s science you care for—repeat, every secret. Thule is prepared to offer every honorable factor needed to secure peace, and asks only the right to establish an orbit near Earth around the sun.

“In exactly one hour, yon will see a force of one hundred Thulian ships approaching. Those are an outright gift to the Fleet, and the men and officers aboard are at your disposal. Each hour thereafter, one hundred more will reach you, until the Federation Fleet has exactly one-half of the Fleet of Thule. Since these ships are simple in operation, you will be able to train and install crews from the Federation within a few days, so need have no fear of a trap or treachery.

“And finally, the warning network around Thule has been removed, and the planet is now open to entry of any or all of the Solar Fleet. President Faskin has empowered me to inform you that Thule considers the Federation a civilized culture, incapable of conquering any world which itself is not bent on conquest. Thule is proud to welcome the Fleet and to co-operate in every way with the Federation of which she someday hopes to become a member.”

He signed off, and turned to Faskin. “They don’t believe you, of course, President Faskin. Who would? But they can’t afford to pass up your offer. I think you can handle the rest of it.”

He dropped a hand on the shoulders of Simon and Bob and started out of the little chamber.

Then he turned back. “Juan, what about you? Feel in the mood for a real family dinner to celebrate all this?”

Juan’s eyes searched those of the other two boys, and then he nodded quickly. “Even if you celebrate with the horrible music from Earth,” he said.

For a second Simon stared at him, and then a grin of understanding broke over his face. He began explaining about the music on the tapes to Bob’s father, while they worked their way out of the crowded, cheering chambers.

There was no fear on Thule now. There had never been hatred, Bob knew, because cultures sufficiently advanced do not have to hate other cultures through lack of understanding. But there had been fear. Thule had come into a Solar System where war had been common a mere two hundred years before, and she hadn’t been sure whether men had outgrown it.