From False Colors, Page 204-206
Tragic, so damn tragic, that in order to save what we love we so often have to destroy it. It was warriors like Jason who had ensured that the Confederation survived when so many others had given up hope, or worse yet, would knowingly destroy it for their ambitions yet what I contemplate will most likely be resisted by ones like Jason.
Is this my own ambition, my own vanity, Geoff wondered. It was a troubling thought. There was a constant gnawing strain that the G.E. project, the virus hidden within the bacteria of Belisarius, was perhaps the greatest moral outrage of all. Yet there was no longer an alternative. That was the hidden truth Whittaker had revealed in their meeting, a truth which he had kept from Jason. Belisarius was simply the Trojan Horse that would be destroyed, and then the real plan would be hatched.
And the Landreich, all the Border World systems. That was the conflict to come against either the Confed or the Cats, which would be the platform for the G.E. project to be unleashed. That was why this carrier had to be saved, to provide the nucleus of an effective resistance so that the wheels within wheels would later turn.
Geoff sighed and, reaching under his chair, he took the bottle which he had hidden when Jason had come in. Taking a long drink he stared off, wondering. I know Jason would say no if he knew all the truth. Does that tell me something? An inner voice whispered the warning that indeed, if Jason did reject it, his rejection meant that it was wrong. And if it is wrong for him then is it for me? God, why am I doing this? He thought of the new ones who even now were secretly in training, pilots like Seether. Seether, what would Jason think of him, this new generation, this new breed of Overman which I am helping to create.
Overman -- strange, Whittaker had told me to read Nietzsche to find the hidden truth of the program. I did and I believed in spite of my moral outrage. That was the trouble, you could be outraged yet there was a terrifying logic to Nietzsche that could not be denied. The only answer to the logic of Nietzche was the logic of a higher order of good that transcended his frieghtful world view. Thirty-five years of war in this universe had all but burned out the idealistic dream of a higher order of good. There was, he feared, only one answer left -- that if we are to survive in this universe we must become the Overman.
For beyond the Cats there were other enemies, far more terrifying, far more powerful and implacable. And if the Cats could come within a hairsbreadth of destroying us, what did that bode for humanity a hundred years from now? For surely they were coming and most assuredly we would be destroyed.
There was only one answer left, he feared, the answer of Nietzsche, of Whittaker, of G.E., of Seether. And I know I should have moral outrage, but that is gone, he thought sadly. That must be buried if we are to survive. He closed his eyes and drained the rest of his bottle.
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