45: Chapter 45 The Strategy of Not Surrender

Inside the conference room, Professor Bloom leaned forward slightly, his hands resting on the table.

"Mr. President, the 'no-surrender' I'm referring to is precisely the only strategy we have right now that could lead to victory."

"And this strategy is built on one assumption: that the internal political struggle within the Guga Planet fleet is still ongoing, that although the Chen Mu faction has lost power, it hasn't been completely wiped out, and that their Emperor has actually been balancing the two factions all along."

He held up two fingers: "The current situation is this: the Commander faction gained decision-making power through a coup, and their Emperor tacitly approved of this coup."

"The Commander faction is betting that humanity will surrender under high pressure. If humanity signs a compromise after the show of force, then in the Emperor's eyes, this will be a victory for the Commander's path."

"Chen Mu's observational path will be completely abandoned, and Chen Mu himself might be permanently excluded from the decision-making level, or worse, sent directly back to the home planet to stand trial."

"But if humanity holds out. If we don't surrender, and if the Commander's promise to the Emperor that 'a mere show of force will make humanity submit' falls through, then from the Emperor's perspective, this won't be a victory for the Commander, but a failure."

"At that point, the Emperor will re-evaluate, and he will discover that the hardline approach doesn't work either. That is the moment he will turn his gaze back to Chen Mu, who once sat down and ate steak with us."

He tapped his knuckles lightly on the table: "When we negotiate then, our opponent will be Chen Mu, not the Commander."

"Only by compromising with the dove faction led by Chen Mu can the interests of Blue Star be maximized. That is why I say 'no surrender'."

"It's not to win militarily, but to steer their internal politics in a direction favorable to us."

"War is the continuation of politics. As long as we withstand the Commander's deterrence, it's equivalent to casting a revival vote for Chen Mu."

President Trump leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling for a few seconds. As a politician who made a living on this, he obviously understood the logic behind it better than anyone else.

"So you mean we don't negotiate with the Commander. We only negotiate with Chen Mu. To achieve this, we must first withstand the Commander's deterrence. If we can't hold out, everything is for nothing."

"Exactly."

"But what if that Commander gets desperate and chooses to open fire directly?"

Professor Bloom was silent for a moment: "Then we can only bet that he won't. This is a matter of choice. It's like doing business; sometimes you have to believe that the fiercest-looking negotiator on the other side is actually afraid of ruining the deal."

"If he could have used genocidal force right from the start, he wouldn't have sent Chen Mu to hold the United Nations General Assembly with us."

President Trump didn't press further; he turned to the other side of the conference table: "Regarding the third point, the logistics issue, what are your opinions?"

Sitting at the far end of the right side of the conference table was Dr. Petrov, a gray-haired expert in logistics and military logistics, and former chief consultant to the United States Logistics Planning Department.

A notebook lay open in front of him, filled with dense calculations and arrows.

"This piece of information itself is very interesting." Petrov put down his pen and rubbed his temples, "Because in terms of military analysis, it provides both an answer and a mystery."

"The answer is: the alien fleet's logistics are indeed under pressure. The fact that Chen Mu admitted this itself suggests that the supply issues within the fleet might be more serious than what they've shown us."

"Otherwise, he wouldn't need to mention having abundant logistics in casual conversation. Someone who is truly affluent doesn't need to emphasize their affluence. Just like a truly wealthy person wouldn't repeatedly say 'my bank account is healthy' at the dinner table; only those who are concerned about it would bring it up."

"But the mystery part is," he tapped the notebook, "how does his logistics actually operate? A fleet of two million ships, anchored in the Kuiper Belt—even if they have faster-than-light communication, material transport must still be subject to the laws of physics."

"We either assume they have logistics technology far beyond human understanding, or we assume the actual size of the fleet is far smaller than the two million ships claimed. Either way, this explains some of the previous doubts."

He opened the notebook to one of the pages and pointed to a line of calculated numbers.

"This also explains why they asked for Mars in the previous proposal. It's very likely they need a planet along the way as a transit station to let the fleet stop and recuperate, which indicates that their consumption while drifting through space must be quite high."

Brigadier General Parrish, sitting next to him, added: "But to be honest, the actual military value of this intelligence is limited."

"Because we don't know exactly where their supply lines are located. If the supply lines are outside the Kuiper Belt, then with humanity's current deep-space strike capabilities, we can't touch them at all."

"If the supply lines rely on the motherships' own circulation systems, such as some kind of closed ecosystem or matter re-synthesis technology, then there's no way to interfere. We can't even find their supply ships, let alone destroy them."

Everyone nodded in agreement.

Brigadier General Parrish continued his analysis: "However, since we now know that they also need supplies, this might be the only thing that can buy us time."

"If the aliens really have logistics pressure, then it's unlikely they can drag this out indefinitely. Time might not be on our side, but before they complete their deployment, time isn't necessarily entirely on their side either."

President Trump finished the last sip of his Coke, and the ice cubes clattered in the empty cup.

He set the cup aside and crossed his hands on the table: "Alright, I know the specific situation. Regarding the no-surrender strategy, I will find an opportunity to communicate with the leaders of other countries."

"Meeting adjourned!"

The next morning, Chen Mu was woken up.

The sound of hundreds of people downstairs shouting slogans in unison surged up from the avenue next to the United Nations building, penetrating the double-layered bulletproof glass and turning into a continuous buzzing sound.

He turned over in the blanket, pressed the pillow over his head, and tried to fall back asleep.

But the pillow didn't work at all. The chanting actually got louder, and there was even someone using a loudspeaker to lead the shouting; after they finished a line, the crowd would repeat it.

Chen Mu opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling.

He suddenly missed that bridge underpass in New York; at least under the bridge there were only rats and cold wind, and no one would shout slogans at your window early in the morning.

At this moment, the door opened.

Maya backed through the door, dragging a bulging laundry bag in her hand, followed by a squeaky linen cart.

The cart was piled with folded sheets, pillowcases, towels, and a bag of supermarket-brand whole wheat sliced bread.

She wasn't wearing her usual neat suit, but instead a grayish-blue polo shirt and dark jeans, with her sleeves rolled up to her elbows, revealing a section of wheat-colored forearm, her hair tied in a neat ponytail, and fine beads of sweat on her forehead.

Chen Mu propped himself up halfway on the bed and rubbed his eyes.

He watched as Maya took the bread off the cart and then, with an elegant arc through the air, it landed on his blanket.

He looked down at the bread, then looked up at the sheets and towels on the cart, and then looked at the "don't ask me, I'm annoyed too" expression on Maya's face.

He asked, somewhat bewildered: "What are you doing?"