"The thresh of this world have something they call 'religion,' my lord," commented Ro'moloristen.
"Religion? What is this 'religion'?"
"It is something like the way our normals feel about us, something like the way we once felt towards the Aldenata, and something like the Way of the Rememberers," answered the underling. "It is, admittedly, a very confused and confusing concept.
"I mention this, lord, because tomorrow is the supreme holy day of the dominant cluster of religious groups on the planet. 'Christmas,' they call it. I believe that translates as 'Solemn celebration of the birth of the anointed one.' They give gifts to each other, sing songs of praise and thanksgiving to their god, gather to worship, and decorate their dwellings and places of labor with special care."
Athenalras shrugged. "What does this mean to us?"
"Oh, perhaps nothing, lord. I simply found it interesting."
"Maybe so," said Athenalras, indifferently. "What news of the front?"
"Not good, my lord," admitted Ro'moloristen. "In the north and south there is no progress. The People have run into the great ditch the thresh call the 'Rhein' and found no crossings. They shudder under the lash of the thresh's artillery on the near bank. In the center, news is somewhat better. Only a few of the forts of the string of defenses they call 'Maginot' still hold out. In some places, those where there is more than one such fort close together, the People suffer fearfully from the fire of nearby fortresses. But that is only in a few places. The other forts are all being reduced or already have been."
"Good," grunted the senior God King.
"Yes . . . well, yes and no, lord. Most of the thresh seem to have escaped through the next line of defenses in the center area. We have little more than our own dead to feed the host, though there are enough of those to feed them for some time. And the People attacking those other defenses, the line they call 'Siegfried,' are being chewed up rather badly. In is the same story in the east. Between rivers and fortifications we are paying a fearful price with little to show for it."
"What of the space-to-surface bombardment?" asked Athenalras.
"Less effective against the line 'Siegfried' than it was against the line 'Maginot,' lord. This second line is built differently; smaller fortifications, and nearer to the surface. On the whole it has been a waste to risk a ship to come low enough to fire on single, small bunkers. There is some . . . thing out there which has been picking off the lower orbit vessels of the People; picking them off and then moving to a new firing position. The firing signature of this thing is the same as for one of our own ship-borne, kinetic energy weapons."
Athenalras grew even more somber at this news. "How many of these 'things' are there?"
"No way to tell, lord. There could be many. There could be only the one."
"I wonder what new 'gifts' the threshkreen will have for us on the morrow, on their 'Christmas.'"