It would be spread thin, too, like Man across the galaxy.
It would be three-dimensional chess with a million billion squares and a million pieces. And with the rules changing every move.
It would reach back to win its battles. It would strike at points in time and space which would not even know that there was a war. It could, logically, go back to the silver mines of Athens, to the horse and chariot of Thutmosis III, to the sailing of Columbus. It would involve all fields of human endeavor and human speculation and it would twist the dreams of men who had never thought of time except as a moving shadow across the sun dial's face.
It would involve spies and propagandists, spies to learn the factors of the past so that they could be plotted in the campaign strategy, propagandists to twist the fabric of the past so that strategy could be the more effective.
It would load the personnel of the Justice Department of the year 7990 with spies and fifth columnists and saboteurs. And it would do that thing so cleverly one could never find the spies.
But, as in an ordinary, honest war, there would be strategic points. As in chess, there would be one key square.
Sutton was that square. He was the square that must be seized and held. He was the pawn that stood in the way of the sweep of bishop and of rook. He was the pawn that both sides were lining up on, bringing all their pressure on a single point…and when one side was ready, when it had gained a fraction of advantage, the slaughter would begin.
Adams folded his arms upon the desk and laid his head upon them. His shoulders twitched with sobbing, but he had no tears.
"Ash, boy," he said. "Ash, I counted on you so much. Ash…"
The silence brought him straight in the chair again.