Deirdre stared at the screen mutely, unable to speak. Her throat was constricted and tight, and when she did try to speak, all that came out were a series of unintelligible rasps. Her generals were just as shocked as her.

The satellite images showed how the Spartan attack across the land bridge had been a feint. Now the main body of the Spartan army, numbering about three million, had landed, and was marching on New Glasgow.

Lindly caught Deirdre's eyes, and said: "My lady, there is still time for you to flee towards Gaia's Landing. There is a chance we can hold Santiago off, at least until reinforcements arrive."

Deirdre shook her head. The tears rose again in her eyes. She felt like throwing herself to the floor, and sobbing until all her problems would dissipate. It would never happen like that though. It was her job to look after people now, not the other way around.

"I will not flee like some startled hare, is that understood, Lindly?"

The girl, being Planet-born, had no idea what Deirdre was on about, but General Marco spoke up, a worried look appearing in his eyes.

"My lady, it would not do for you to be caught in the headlights like a hare, either. Go to Gaia's Landing, Deirdre, I urge you. You can command the war from there. Who knows, the Council could convene, and decide to end Santiago's pretensions here."

Deirdre rolled her eyes. "The day that happens is the day Morgan loses his love of gold. I will not run. I am staying here, with my army, is that understood?"

Marco shook his head. "My lady, our position here is doomed, please, you must flee to Gaia's Landing. You could return shortly, with reinforcements, could you not?"

Deirdre raised an eyebrow. "Whether or not I leave, general, the reinforcements will be arriving. Now, I have made my decision. We have no more time to waste. Pull in all our troops, and order our aircraft to carry out as many air strikes as possible. And put Admiral Hawke on the screen."

The screen depicting the Spartan army flashed, and the face of the Admiral appeared. He was an old man, having been with Deirdre since Planetfall. Around him, Deirdre could make out the billowing smoke and flashes of fire that betrayed a battle. Panic rose in her throat, more potent than any experienced before. Her admiral could not die out there. She would not allow it!

"Admiral, what is happening?"

He shouted through the comm-link. "Lady Deirdre, the Spartan navy has been cloaked all this time, and now they launch an attack against our own naval forces. We are outnumbered about three to one."

Deirdre knew what they must do. She knew it in her gut.

"Withdraw, Admiral. Gather your ships, and break through their lines. Find safe harbour at Memory of Earth. Rest your men, repair you fleet."

The Admiral's mouth dropped open. "And leave you defenceless against the Spartan navy? I think not, Deirdre. That is folly."

Her voice cracking like a whip, Deirdre shouted the Admiral's arguments down. "Admiral, how long do you think our fleet can last out there against Spartans? I'll answer it for you. They won't last at all. We must salvage as much as we can from this disaster, is that understood? It you fight, our navy will be driven into the harbours here, and they will never be able to escape. At the least, if you make for Memory you will be able to counter- attack when you are sufficiently rested."

Hawke paused. "But my lady, this is."

Smiling coldly, Deirdre said. "If I here the words 'this is folly' once more, I swear you will all be brought before a disciplinary council. I have made my decision, Hawke, now do it. Is it clear?"

The Admiral shook his head in despair, and nodded. "Aye, milady, it is understood." Deirdre nodded. "End the communication."

The screen blanked out for a second, and Deirdre closed her eyes. She did not believe in a God, so there was no use in praying, but to someone, anything, that might be out there, noticing her struggle, she begged for aid.

"I want the air force to strike the Spartan ships."

Marco smiled. "Yes, my lady."

Deirdre lay back in her seat, in a futile attempt to calm herself. Her hands felt like ice, and the tension rising within her threatened to leave her a shuddering, hopeless wreck. Lindly looked calm, being a veteran of the frequent mindworm attacks on New Glasgow. The screen blinked, and now it showed the Gaian army, entering the city through the huge synthmetal gates.

It seemed to take hours for the last of the warriors to enter the gate, but, after twenty minutes, the last Gaian was in the city. With a clang that spoke of finality, the gates were shut. The sound echoed in Deirdre's head.

"Order the evacuation, general. Every child, and the old and infirm must be given space on the shuttles. Fly them to Memory. There will only be time for three shuttle flights. How many people can that remove from the city?"

Marco sighed. "All, my lady. Though the middle-aged, physically strong will have to remain here."

Deirdre closed her eyes. "May the people forgive me for this, but it needs to be done." She faced Marco. "I want you to order compulsory conscription. Any person fit for service must fight."

The general nodded, and he too, mirrored the hopelessness in his leader's eyes. Their own leader had just broken a law of the Gaian faction.



For the next few hours, the Gaian air force struck at the Spartan army, and the air was filled with crimson flames, and acrid black smoke. As the enemy drew closer to the city, they air strikes became more desperate, the pilots obviously trying to destroy as many of the enemy as they could before they reached the city.

Rover detachments were sent, lancing into the sides of the army like pins pricking the hide of an elephant. All the rover units disengaged successfully, after causing small amounts of damage. It was pointless, the generals said, to attack the Spartans with rovers, but they were the only things Deirdre had capable of carrying the fight to the enemy. Curse the Spartans; they were on the wrong side of the city!

When news of the conscription had reached the populace, a silence had fallen. Deirdre and the rest of the generals feared that there would be an insurrection, yet nothing of the sort happened. Instead, slowly, in trickles at first, but gradually increasing to a flood, the citizenry of New Glasgow marched out to take up arms against their aggressors.

She had cried then, seeing the peaceful faces torn within themselves. They were breaking the oldest law, and yet they were determined to do so. The Spartans would not have New Glasgow, if it meant the death of every person present. They blessed her this moment, yes, but if they survived, Deirdre knew they would revile everything she had ever stood for. That could not be helped, however.

Sitting in the control room, Deirdre had kept a tight rein of her anxiety, offering nothing but an indomitable appearance for her followers since she had broken down and cried.

As she sat, thinking, there was a loud screeching, and a roaring crash. The generals rushed to the window, and their worried shouts filled the room. Deirdre stood, and shouted: "Be still! What is happening?"

"They bombard, my lady! They are setting the city afire! Look, one of our preserves is alight! The devils, they ruin a lifetime of work!"

Deirdre snarled, and raced to the window, all thoughts of dignity forgotten. It was true. The Spartans were obviously close enough to bombard the city, and now the crystal domed centauri preserves were burning. When Deirdre saw the rare specimens of willow and oak so carelessly and casually burned, a helpless rage took her. Her eyes blazed, and she murmured, in a voice laced with fury.

"Contact Brother Lal."

Marco shook his head, but did as he was told. An aide switched a couple of buttons, and, sure enough, Lal's face appeared on the screen. It was lined and creased with worry, and when he saw Deirdre, sympathy seemed to light within the orbs of blue. "My lady, what a pleasant-"

Deirdre shouted at the screen. "It is not a social contact, Lal. Look what the Spartan beast has done, look! You go on about your precious charter, and look! Don't see and judge with a bureaucrat's eyes, look as a human, Lal! Our groves and preserves die! A century of work, my life, Lal, and now, because of your weak and ineffectual leadership, your foolish prevarication, the treasures of New Glasgow are being desecrated and destroyed."

Lal bowed his head. "Lady, please listen!"

Deirdre finally allowed the anger that had festered within her every single day since Planetfall to release itself. Her face remained it normal paleness, yet now there was a depth to it that spoke of unfathomable bitterness.

"No, Pravin Lal, you will listen to me for once! I have supported your Council every step of the way. I have stood there while fools like Santiago have laughed at my suggestions for environmental preservation. Vultures like Morgan have been eying my cities all my life, and now Santiago, supported economically by Morgan, is attacking them! You are a weak-willed idiot, Lal, and I feel ill to the heart when I look at you. In you I see the living embodiment of the UN. I note every failure of theirs, yet now you have surpassed even the League of Nations. You have allowed a peaceful faction to come under threat from a larger, more powerful aggressor."

She turned to the aides. "Send him the images of the army. Let him judge the validity of Santiago's scouting mission." She fixed Lal with a level gaze. "You once had my full loyalty, Lal. I would have done anything to keep the Council in power. Yet now you prove doubts that have lingered in my mind since the first day. You are a bumbling prig!"

Pravin Lal opened his mouth to speak, but Deirdre cut him off again. The images were sent to Lal, and Deirdre spoke, this time quieter. "Look, Lal. Look at the scouting mission. May you know shame for the rest of your life. Your precious UN is ended. I revile it, and if I have my way, there will be no remnant of it upon Planet."

Sighing, Lal shook his head. Deirdre knew he wanted to speak, but she merely nodded to Marco. The communication was ended.