Mike Resnick - Birthright

“The ninth and tenth planets of Gamma Leporis are quite rich in numerous natural elements that the Republic needs: iron, lead, gold, even a little uranium.” “What has one got to do with the other?” asked Nelson. “Not much, except for the Lemm,” answered Landon. “We don't know much about them, except that they're quite similar to us in one respect at least.” “And what is that?”

“They seek after Empire,” said Landon. “They've established bases, artificial islands, on the fifteen aquatic worlds in question.”

“Why should that bother us, if we're after the material from the waterless worlds?”

“Good question,” said the Director. “Let me put it this way: How would you feel about an alien power's establishing itself on Deluros V?”

“I wouldn't like it much,” said Nelson. “Why?”

“It's a big galaxy. Let them look elsewhere for what they want. The Deluros system belongs to us.” “They might be peaceful,” said Landon.

“Then why are they expansionist?” said Nelson. “And why didn't they ask our permission?” “Precisely,” said Landon. “Well, it just so happens that we asked permission of the inhabitants of Gamma Leporis system.”

“What does that have to do with the Lemm?” “Lots,” said Landon. “You see, the ichthyoid population of Gamma Leporis IV is an ancient race, some four billion years old. Their intellects have reached a point to which Man can never aspire, even in the distant future. But nature played a dirty trick on them: She made them totally aquatic. No race advances without technology, and ninety-nine percent of all technology is based on fire. Can't have fire on a water world.”

“So the Lemm moved in and conquered them?” asked Nelson. “Conquer isn't the word,” said Landon. “The Lemm simply set up floating islands, dropped a few depth bombs that the ichthyoids couldn't cope with or respond to, and demanded that they begin mining their world and turning the various materials over to the Lemm.” “Sounds kind of like us,” said Nelson, not without a touch of approval. “To continue,” said Landon. “It took us the better part of a year to communicate on even a basic level with the ichthyoids. They wanted nothing to do with us or the Lemm. The Lemm are a bit more technological; I imagine we could communicate with them in a matter of a couple of days.” “Why don't we?”

“No need to,” said the Director. “We've got a pretty good idea about their potentialities, their science, and their feeling toward outsiders.”

“For instance?” asked Nelson.

“There are no domes on the water worlds. That implies the Lemm are carbon-based oxygen-breathers. Their science is obviously based on somewhat different principles than ours, or else they'd be more interested in Gamma Leporis IX and X, instead of water worlds. And we know they're an aggressive race that has nothing against an occasional conquest.”

“Why not send the Navy against them?” asked Nelson.

“Two reasons. First, since their science is different from ours, we don't know what kind of fight they're capable of putting up. We're spread too thin throughout the galaxy to get involved in a major war just yet.”

“And the other reason?”

“Simple. We're outnumbered a million to one in this galaxy. We'll win it, in time, every last piece of it. But if we make too loud a noise too early in our career, our opposition—both real and potential—may coalesce before we're ready for them. So the Navy says hands off.” “But you don't,” said Nelson.

“Absolutely correct,” said Landon. “We need those worlds.” He picked up the microphone again. “Show all the worlds under current consideration in flashing white,” he said, “and show me the fifty nearest human-controlled worlds as well.” He waited a moment, then turned to Nelson. “You see?” he said. “It's a new line of expansion that would add another dozen systems to our collection, and put about three dozen more under our sphere of influence.” “And my job?” asked Nelson.

“Leave the Lemm home planet alone,” said Landon, “but get the Lemm off the water worlds. Can you do it?”

“I suppose so,” said Nelson, scratching his bead. “If they're oxygen-breathers, it shouldn't be too hard to poison the air. A couple of really dirty bombs on each world...” “No bombs,” said Landon. “If I wanted a war, I'd send for the Navy.” “But they won't come,” Nelson pointed out. “Just the same, we don't want the Lemm figuring out what happened, or who is doing this.” “Okay,” said Nelson. “Same principle: poisoning the air. It'll take a little more work, but it can be done.” “Secretly?” Nelson nodded. “And I'll make it short-lived, something that will dissipate after a couple of years so we can move back in. Might as well put it on the solid worlds too,” he added. “It might confuse them, and it'll stop them from retreating there. About how many Lemm will I be killing?” “You don't want to know,” said Landon.

“No, I suppose not,” agreed Nelson.

“Any other questions?” asked the Director as he escorted Nelson back to his motorcart. “Just one,” said Nelson. “I'm doing this so we can move onto two worlds: Gamma Leporis IX and X. Yet your map projection showed seventeen new worlds.” “Eleven of those aquatic worlds are devoid of sentient life. And once the Lemm are driven off, I would imagine the ichthyoids would be happy to form an alliance with their saviors.”

“And if they're not?”

“Well,” said Landon with the trace of a grim smile about his lips, “if it comes down to cases, I would imagine Man can make a depth charge every bit as powerful as the Lemm's, wouldn't you?” Nelson nodded vigorously.

3: THE MINERS

...It was during the period of 370-390 G.E., that the Federation of Miners made its first tentative steps toward a position of fiscal and political power under the bold and visionary leadership of Jerim Coleman, a young legal student who took the cause of the miners as his own. Coleman, a deeply moral and religious man, was responsible for the heroic stands taken by the downtrodden miners of five major outworlds, including...

— Man: Twelve Millennia of Achievement ...Coleman, who reached the pinnacle of his power around the turn of the fifth century (G.E.), demonstrated all that was most distasteful in Man during the period of his greatest galactic expansion. Unyielding, uncompromising, he single-handedly accounted for the deaths of more than five thousand members of his own species, as well as... —Origin and History of the Sentient Races , Vol. 7

Coleman was met at the door by a Butterball. This was not totally unexpected. He knew that the miners usually made alliances with the native life forms, occasionally because of mutual need, more often from sheer loneliness and boredom. And he also knew enough to remain where he was until one of the miners showed up. Any species that could call Gamma Leporis IX—with its bitter cold, raging winds, dust storms, and oppressive gravity— home had to be pretty tough customers if aroused. The Butterball emitted an ear-piercing hoot, and a moment later one of the miners opened the door. “What's up, Ferdinand?” asked the grizzled man. Then his eyes fell on Coleman. “You the man from the Federation?”

Coleman nodded.

“Well, come on in,” said the miner. “Don't mind Ferdy here. He's pretty docile, all things considered.” Coleman followed the man into the large auditorium. Most of the seats were filled. He estimated the crowd at 350, which was not a bad turnout, given a world population of 422. He walked immediately to the dais, laid his briefcase out on the podium, withdrew a sheaf of papers, and gratefully noted a cup of hot coffee on the shelf directly beneath the slanted board that was meant to hold his papers, but would doubtless end up supporting his elbows instead. He considered taking his coat off, but decided to wait until he felt just a bit warmer.