With no one to help him, it seemed the General was lost. But the enemy was soon to discover that—

GENERALS HELP THEMSELVES

By M. C. Pease

"Did it go well?" the aide asked.

"Did it

The admiral, affectionately known as the Old Man, did not reply until he'd closed the door, crossed the room, and dropped into the chair at his desk. Then he said:

"Go well? It did not go at all. Every blasted one of them, from the President on down, can think of nothing but the way the Combine over-ran Venus. When I mention P-boats, they shout that the Venusians depended on P-boats, too, and got smashed by the Combine's dreadnoughts in one battle. 'You can't argue with it, man,' they tell me. And they won't listen."

"But the Venusians fought their P-ships idiotically," the aide complained. "It was just plain silly to let small, light, fast ships slug it out with dreadnoughts. If they had used Plan K—"

The Old Man snorted.

"Are you trying to convince me? I've staked my whole reputation on Plan K. They wouldn't give me the money to build a balanced space-fleet, even when the fleets of the Combine of Jupiterian Satellite States were staring them in the face. So, I took what I could get and poured it into P-boats. I threw all our engineering and scientific staff into making them faster and more maneuverable than anyone ever thought a space-ship could be. I got them to build me electronic computers that could direct that speed. And, two years ago, every cent I could lay my hands on went to install the computers on all our ships."

"I remember," the aide said.

"But, now the chips are down, the people have funked out on me. I am one of the most hated men in the Federation. They say I destroyed their Navy. And, we are not going to get a chance to try Plan K. They decided, today, to accept the Combine's offer to send envoys in a month to discuss possible revision of the Treaty of Porran. When I left, they were wondering if there was any chance of getting out for less than Base Q."

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