32 minute read
General Thomas Groves gazed glumly up at the battle maps on the wall. The thin black line, the iron ring around Ganymede, was still there. He waited a moment, vaguely hoping, but the line did not go away. At last he turned and made his way out of the chart wing, past the rows of desks. At the door Major Siller stopped him. "What's wrong, sir? No change in the war?" "No change." "What'll we do?" "Come to terms. Their terms. We can't let it drag on another month. Everybody knows that. They know that." "Licked by a little outfit like Ganymede." "If only we had more time. But we don't. The ships must be out in deep-space again, right away. If we have to capitulate to get them out, then let's do it. Ganymede!" He spat. "If we could only break them. But by that time—" "By that time...