“We understand so little,” he said, “even now. If you look back at the theories of the ancients you can see how they groped for understanding. Their physics made them capable of recognizing a black hole, say, and describing its broad features. But their science gave them no real understanding of what it is. Some of what we are capable of today would have seemed impossible to the ancients, as if we were defying the laws of physics themselves! But you have to wonder how incomplete our own precious theories may be.”

Pirius kept his face blank. With Torec’s hand curled warmly in his own, he daydreamed of other things.

After a week, Nilis set up his “showdown” with Marshal Kimmer in a conference room in Officer Country. Pirius and Torec were summoned to attend.

The Marshal was thin as a blade and impossibly tall, so tall that outside Officer’s Country he had to stoop or else his bald head would have scraped the ceiling. His cheekbones were so sharp they looked as if they would cut through his flesh, and his mouth was invisibly small. But he had space-hardened eyes implanted in his face, tokens of the battlefield. They masked Kimmer’s expression completely, as was perhaps their intention.

The Marshal didn’t so much as acknowledge Pirius’s presence, as if the ensign didn’t even exist. But officially, Pirius supposed, given his future crime, he didn’t.

Nilis opened with a bumbling presentation on the latest incarnation of his Project Prime Radiant, and how it would be carried out. The operational details were starting to be refined, through work with Darc, Torec, Pirius, and others. Nilis described how a squadron of modified greenships would sail into the Cavity behind a single, carefully selected Rock, known as Orion Rock, which would be used for cover.

Commander Darc sat alongside Nilis. Pila was here, Minister Gramm’s aide, and now his representative at the Core. She sat silently, obviously not wanting to be here; she seemed to regard the Base, the Core, and the whole messy business of the war with utter disdain. And here were Pirius and Torec, sitting awkwardly at the table, hoping nobody would notice them.

Marshal Kimmer sat motionless and expressionless through the presentation. He had brought various aides who sat behind him, whispering to each other.

At last Nilis finished, to everyone’s relief, including his own. He dispersed his last Virtual image with a wave of his hand and sat down, mopping sweat from his brow with his robe’s grimy sleeve. “Marshal, the floor is yours.”

The Marshal remained silent for long heartbeats, his expression thunderous. Pirius didn’t dare so much as breathe.

When the Marshal did speak, his voice was so soft Pirius could barely hear it. “Let me see if I’ve got this straight. You want twenty greenships.”

“A full squadron of ten, yes, plus reserve craft, and others for development and training—”