“Go right ahead,” Branch said.
“Now then,” Ellsner began, consulting a pocket notebook, “you’ve had the fleet in space for eleven months and seven days. Is that right?”
“Yes.”
“During that time there have been light engagements, but no actual hostilities.
You—and the enemy commander—have been content, evidently, to sniff each other like discontented dogs.”
“I wouldn’t use that analogy,” Branch said, conceiving an instant dislike for the young man.
“But go on.”
“I apologize.
It was an unfortunate, though inevitable comparison.
Anyhow, there has been no battle, even though you have a numerical superiority.
Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“And you know the maintenance of this fleet strains the resources of Earth.
The President would like to know why battle has not been joined.”
“I’d like to hear the rest of the complaints first,” Branch said. He tightened his battered fists, but, with remarkable self-control, kept them at his sides.
“Very well.
The morale factor.
We keep getting reports from you on the incidence of combat fatigue—crack-up, in plain language.
The figures are absurd!
Thirty percent of your men seem to be under restraint.
That’s way out of line, even for a tense situation.”
Branch didn’t answer.
“To cut this short,” Ellsner said, “I would like the answer to those questions.
Then, I could like your assistance with negotiating a truce.
This war was absurd to begin with.
It was none of Earth’s choosing.
It seems to the President that, in view of the static situation, the enemy commander will be amenable to the idea.”
Colonel Margraves staggered in, his face flushed.
He had completed his unfinished business; adding another fourth to his half-drunk.
“What’s this I hear about a truce?” he shouted.
Ellsner stared at him for a moment, then turned back to Branch.
“I suppose you will take care of this yourself.
If you will contact the enemy commander, I will try to come to terms with him.”
“They aren’t interested,” Branch said.
“How do you know?”
“I’ve tried.
I’ve been trying to negotiate a truce for six months now.
They want complete capitulation.”
“But that’s absurd,” Ellsner said, shaking his head.
“They have no bargaining point.
The fleets are of approximately the same size.
There have been no major engagements yet.
How can they—”
“Easily,” Margraves roared, walking up to the representative and peering truculently in his face.
“General. This man is drunk.”
Ellsner got to his feet.
“Of course, you little idiot!
Don’t you understand yet?
The war is lost!
Completely, irrevocably.”