
“Everything possible,” the Ghin returned calmly. “Armies and fleets of the barbarian mercenaries, the humans, are already engaged in holding the frontier, even in rolling it back in places. Projections show that, with current-sized forces, and with the ability to breed more human mercenaries from among their children we have taken as our… guests… we shall be able to insulate and isolate ourselves until this plague has passed. Look for yourselves.”
With a wave of an arm, every hologram changed to show a map of the Federation sector of the galaxy, systems already fallen to the invaders appearing as red in contrast to Federation blue. The map was framed on all sides by statistical indicia, the profit and loss sheets so beloved of Darhel merchants and bankers.
“Obscene,” muttered the Urdan. “By what right do you charge us the absurd wages these barbarians demand? I have shareholders and investors to whom I am responsible. The cost of these humans is unsupportable. They should take an Indowy’s wage and be grateful for it.”
The Ghin rather agreed with that last. The arrogance of the humans was infuriating. Nonetheless, he answered, “It is the fault of the most numerous among the human subspecies, the ones they call the Chinese.” A little of the Ghin’s own fury at human arrogance began to peek through. He suppressed that fury ruthlessly; lintatai, once entered into, was as much a danger to a Ghin as to any Darhel.
“The humans that are called ‘Chinese’ did some calculations and determined that the wages we were offering were much less than we would have been willing to pay. They, along with the other barbarians, simply held out and refused us aid until we had given them a better offer.” With a smug smile the Ghin concluded, “Not that we would not have paid three times what the humans demanded. But they didn’t know that, of course. Rejoice that the cost is so low. It could have been much worse. And rest assured, my expenses were even greater than yours. And I have plans for these Chinese to answer for their effrontery.”
