He propped himself up on his elbow. “And here’s that bigger picture. We’ve beaten back the Xeelee. We’ve pushed them out of the disc of the Galaxy. It’s been an epochal achievement. But they still lurk in the Galaxy’s Core. We have them bottled up there—but the cost of that containment is huge. We have turned the whole Galaxy into a machine, a single vast machine dedicated to a single goal: to keeping the Xeelee trapped. It’s dreadful, it’s costly—it’s working. But I have to be parsimonious with my resources.

“Now, whether you see it or not—and no matter what that old monster Luru Parz says—we’ve been responsible with your project so far. We’ve tried to apply resources sensibly, commensurate with the successes you’ve actually achieved, bit by bit as the concept has been proved. But now we’re being asked to take a much greater leap of faith. You might think a couple of dozen greenships isn’t much in a war that spans a Galaxy. You might think you’re under excessive scrutiny—that you’re being opposed, arbitrarily, through the mechanism of the funding. Perhaps some do have such a motive. But for me it’s not like that. We’re stretched thin, Ensign, thinner than you might understand. Even a single ship, lost unnecessarily, might make the difference, might cause it all to unravel. That’s the great fear—and Nilis’s is only one of a hundred, a thousand such requests I have to deal with right now. Do you see what you’re asking me to risk, if we commit to Nilis’s madcap jaunt?”

“You fear that if we draw resources away, the Front could collapse.”

“Yes. And if the Xeelee were to punch out of there, we’d be lost; they would surely never allow us to establish a position of dominance again. Nilis isn’t unique, you know. Especially in the Commission, there are many corners, lots of bits of unaccounted-for funding—plenty of places for the likes of Nilis to dream their dreams.”

“Nilis is more than a dreamer.”

“Well, perhaps. But, as I say, he isn’t unique. It doesn’t take a genius to perceive that our glorious war effort has stalled, that it is an exercise in monstrous waste. At any moment there must be dozens of Nilises running around with bright ideas for shortening or ending the war.” He rubbed his greasy jowl. “And maybe once a generation you will have a true Nilis, a plan so well thought-out, so convincing, that you believe it might, just might, work.”

“Once a generation?”

“It’s in the records. No doubt Nilis himself is aware of many of them.”

“But since the war began, there have been a lot of generations.”

Gramm laughed. “Quite so. And a lot of bright ideas. Some of them probably bore passing resemblances to Nilis’s scheme.”