u rank them? Was intentional
torture for the few any the worse than the dispassionate act of dropping
a bomb that produced quite the same, if not worse, results for the many?

"Just what would you do, Mister McCandless?"

The Lieutenant's face was flushed. "I'm not sure, sir. But I think I
would look at it from a strategic viewpoint. There are two ships here,
both instruments of war. If the aliens attack the one, and the other
doesn't go to the rescue, then it would be obvious that we are a divided
world. We would be a tempting ... prize."

"And if we went to the aid of the _Josef_, then you think we might beat
the alien ship off?"

McCandless shrugged. "I don't know, sir. We might."

The Captain turned back to look at the now swelling sea. The air off the
water was cool and brisk and the deck of his ship moved comfortably
under his feet; a solid thing in a liquid world.

"It doesn't make a great deal of difference what we think, Lieutenant,"
the Captain said, a little of his good humor restored. "In the long run,
we'll do whatever Washington says."

There was a sudden, flashing glow just over the horizon. McCandless
blanched and the Captain clutched the rail, his knuckles turning white
with the force of his grip. There was another flash and the OD popped
out of the hatch of the wheelhouse like a cork out of a bottle.
"Captain! the ..."

The Captain was already brushing past him, heading into the pilothouse
for the television screen and the picture that the drone plane was
transmitting.

The picture on the screen wavered and blurred with the shock of the
action. From what he could see, the Captain knew that whatever action he
took, if any, he would have to take it within a relative few minutes.
The forward half of the superstructure of the _Josef_ was a smoking
ruin, the metal a cherry red.

Half the planes on the flight deck were charred and being frantically
pushed overboard by small tractors so the remainder of the planes could
be airborne. A mile overhead, in the glazing blue sky, the few planes
the _Josef_ had managed to launch buzzed futilely about the alien ship,
discharging rockets that scintillated and flamed off the dull gray sides
and, so far as the Captain could tell, were causing no damage at all.

"Message for you, sir."

He felt the clip board being pushed into his hand, then glanced down. It
was difficult to read without his glasses but he could make it out.

_Unusual ... do nothing rash