"We would have had no other reason to tell Peter about this at all," said Bean. "We don't work for him. We don't really like him all that much."
"He's not," said Petra firmly, "one of us."
Alai nodded, sighed, leaned back in his chair. "Please, sit down," he said.
"Thank you," said Petra.
Bean walked to the window and looked out over lawns sprinkled by purified water from the Mediterranean. Where the favor of Allah was, the desert blossomed. "I don't think there'll be any harm from this," said Bean. "Aside from our losing a bit of sleep tonight."
"You must see that it's hard for me to suspect my closest colleagues here."
"You're the Caliph," said Petra, "but you're also still a very young man, and they see that. They know your plan is brilliant, they love you, they follow you in all the great things you plan for your people. But when you tell them, Keep this an absolute secret, they say yes, they even mean it, but they don't take it really quite seriously because, you see, you're..."
"Still a boy," said Alai.
"That will fade with time," said Petra. "You have many years ahead of you. Eventually all these older men will be replaced."
"By younger men that I trust even less," said Alai ruefully.
"Telling Peter is not the same thing as telling an enemy," said Bean. "He shouldn't have had this information in advance of the invasion. But you notice that the informer didn't tell him when the invasion would start."
"Yes he did," said Alai.
"Then I don't see it," said Bean.
Petra got up again and looked at the printed-out email. "The message doesn't say anything about the date of the invasion."
"It was sent," said Alai, "on the day of the invasion."
Bean and Petra looked at each other. "Today?" said Bean.
"The Turkic campaign has already begun," said Alai. "As soon as it was dark in Xinjiang. By now we have received confirmation via email messages that three airfields and a significant part of the power grid are in our hands. And so far, at least, there is no sign that the Chinese know anything is happening. It's going better than we could have hoped."
"It's begun," said Bean. "So it was already too late to change the plans for the third front."
"No, it wasn't," said Alai. "Our new orders have been sent. The Indonesian and Arab commanders are very proud to be entrusted with the mission that will take the war home to the enemy."
Bean was appalled. "But the logistics of it...there's no time to plan."
"Bean," said Alai with amusement. "We already had the plans for a complicated beach landing. That was a logistical nightmare. Putting three hundred separate forces ashore at different points on the Chinese coast, under cover of darkness, three days from today, and supporting them with air raids and air drops--my people can do that in their sleep. That was the best thing about your idea, Bean, my friend. It wasn't a plan at all, it was a situation, and the whole plan is for every individual commander to improvise ways to fulfil the mission objectives. I told them, in my orders, that as long as they keep moving inland, protect their men, and cause maximum annoyance to the Chinese government and military, they can't fail."
"It's begun," said Petra.
"Yes," said Bean. "It's begun, and Achilles is not in China."
Petra looked at Bean and grinned. "Let's see what we can do about keeping him away."
"More to the point," said Bean. "Since we have not given Peter the specific message he needs to convey to Virlomi in India, may we do so now, with your permission?"
Alai squinted at him. "Tomorrow. After news of the fighting in Xinjiang has started to come out. I will tell you when."
In Uphanad's office, Graff sat with his feet on the desk as Uphanad worked at the security console.
"Well, sir, that's it," said Uphanad. "They're off."
"And they'll arrive when?" said Graff.
"I don't know," said Uphanad. "That's all about trajectories and very complicated equations balancing velocity, mass, speed--I wasn't the astrophysics teacher in Battle School, you recall."