Spinneret (18 page)

Allerton's eyes narrowed, but he remained silent as Saleh recounted the incident. “Did Trader Sen say whether the Rooshrike were going to remain on guard over Astra?” he asked when the Secretary-General had finished.

“According to him, they'll stay there as long as we want them to. But I don't expect they're doing it for free.”

“Um. You suppose their fee will involve some of the Spinneret technology?”

“Possibly. But that's not the point. No man or group of men can claim possession of land they cannot defend. We have been shamefully negligent in this area, and it is by the grace of God alone that we have a second chance.”

“What are you suggesting we do?” Allerton asked calmly.
Too
calmly, in Saleh's opinion. Where was that warmongering, saber-rattling American belligerence when you truly needed it?

“I'm suggesting we get some real weapons to Astra immediately,” he ground out. “Anti-aircraft missiles, certainly; equipment for ground warfare, probably. And we'll need to arm our ships, too—”

“Who's going to pay for all this?”

For nearly a second Saleh completely lost his voice. “Have you perhaps forgotten those are
your people
out there?” he snapped when he found his tongue again.

“So you want
us
to foot the bill for these useless weapons,” Allerton nodded. “That's about what I expected.”

“Useless?”

“You don't seriously think anything we can make will be effective against the kind of military technology we'd be up against, do you? Our only chance would be to buy state-of-the-art weaponry from the Ctencri—and I doubt seriously they would sell that to us.”

Saleh stared at Allerton's image, again forcing his temper down. “All right, then. If we
can
find a supplier of such weaponry, will you help pay for it?”

“Possibly,” Allerton said. “It depends partly on who would have control of the weapons and how you would guarantee they wouldn't show up later in various national arsenals.”

“We—the United Nations—would retain control, naturally.”

“That's a little vague. Do you mean the Security Council, the General Assembly, or just the Secretariat?”

Saleh favored him with a long, cool gaze. “You don't trust us, do you?”

“As you've so often pointed out, Mr. Saleh, all Ctencri contacts run through the UN. Given the anti-West invective that seems to be a staple of Assembly speeches, I think I have a right to be concerned when you start talking about hasty weapons deals.”

“Yet you are offended when I suggest the benefits of Astra and the Spinneret should be more evenly distributed.”

“That's a different situation entirely, and you know it.”

“Of course I do. But world opinion is seldom so rational.” He paused. “So I'm giving you advance warning as to my plans. One: I'm going to make public the full details of the Spinneret's discovery and capabilities tomorrow morning, along with the Ctencri report of the M'zarch attack. At the same time I'm going to introduce a resolution in the Security Council that the UN take over the operation and defense of Astra.”

“The United States will veto any such action,” Allerton cut in sharply.

“So you've told me. And two: I'm going to authorize the formation of an international scientific task force to study the Spinneret and its cable. They will be transported to Astra aboard one of the new courier space ships the Ctencri have generously offered us—ships that will make the one-way trip in approximately four days.”

He had the satisfaction of seeing Allerton's expression twitch at that. “So. Faster ships,” the President said slowly. “Well, if you're expecting a communications advantage like that to shake us off Astra, you're going to be disappointed. What Astra needs most is a stable source of supplies, and I doubt your little couriers are going to have anything near the capacity of our ships.”

“True. But who knows? In a month you may be leasing those ships to us—because I assure you, Mr. President, that the Spinneret will not remain long under the domination of you or any other single nation. It is the property of
all
mankind, and I intend to make that status both explicit and legal. I suggest
you
decide just how graciously you will bow to the inevitable. Good day, sir.”

Allerton was still staring blackly at the camera when Saleh cut off the connection.

M
EREDITH HAD GUESSED THE
political ripples of the M'zarch attack would take a month to return to Astra; but in fact the ships started arriving barely ten days after the incident. Three warships from the Orspham Empire were first, hulking monstrosities that completely dwarfed the Rooshrike corvets which escorted them in from the border. The Whissst arrived a few days later, their ships much smaller and reminding Meredith of nothing so much as large, steel-plated pretzels. The Ctencri sent no warships, but the flying warehouse they brought was a gadgeteer's delight, judging by the catalogue they transmitted groundside. As each race arrived Meredith did his best to send properly courteous greetings, and to gratefully acknowledge their offers of assistance and defense without actually accepting any of them.

“I feel like an Exxon heir at a gold diggers' convention,” he grumbled to Major Barner one afternoon in the latter's Crosse office. He seemed to be spending a lot of time in people's offices lately; the thought of all the radio monitors overhead had made him increasingly leery of the phone for anything but the most innocuous conversations. “You can practically hear dollar signs dropping every time one of them calls down.”

“Except with the Orspham,” Barner noted. “They seem more interested in finding a M'zarch ship to shoot up. Have you figured out yet what you're going to do about all of them?”

Meredith grimaced. “Not yet. It's obvious we're going to heed
some
protection, if only to keep the M'zarch from taking another crack at us. The only problem is making sure the guards we pick don't decide at some point that robbery would pay better.” He shook his head. “Never mind that for now. We can afford to string them along for a while longer. Did you really want me here to discuss the harvesting, or is this more from Hafner's people?”

“The latter.” Barner unfolded a map and indicated the new areas of crosshatching. “They've eliminated three more hills and most of the ridge that overhangs that end of the Dead Sea. “

“Um. Still using that sonic echoing gadget Brown's people cobbled together?”

“And hoping slabs of cable material don't play games with sound waves as well as electric fields, yes. So far nothing that looks like a cavity has shown up.”

“Have they talked to Dr. Chang's team about that? I don't know if they've done any sonic studies on the cable, but they should be able to rig up something.”

“Probably could.” Barner hesitated. “I don't really think Hafner's people want Chang in on this, though.”

“The hell with what they
want,”
Meredith growled. “We've got a set of experts here and we're going to use them. What does Hafner think this is, some new version of keep-away?”

“I don't think Dr. Hafner cares that much, himself. But some of his people—well,
resent
the way Chang just came in and took over up at the cable site.”

For an instant Meredith remembered how Captain Witzany had reacted to that same event. “This whole place better start remembering that Astra is a territory of the United States, not some free and independent country. You'll send a messenger to Chang this afternoon to ask about the cable's sonic characteristics.” He caught the objection in Barner's eyes and mentally backed up a step. “You don't have to tell him why we want the information, though.”

“That'll help.” Barner pushed the map to one side, replacing it with a sheaf of photo enlargements. “Dr. Hafner also took an extensive set of photos of the area and suggested we try shape analysis on the hills. I think it might be worth a try.”

“Yeah.” Meredith picked up the top photo, glanced at the one beneath it. “Unfortunately, it would mean putting all this on the computer, and I'm still not sure I want to risk that.”

Barner shrugged. “I'll admit my knowledge of computers is limited, but it seems to me that if you tore out the entire remote-access system the thing should be secure enough. No one's going to eavesdrop on buried fiberop cables from thirty thousand kilometers, and the machine itself should be adequately shielded.”

“‘Should be' is about as far as I get, too. Given our truly abysmal ignorance of the local state of the art in such things, it's not very reassuring.” The colonel dropped the photo back onto the stack. “You might as well put all these into your booby-proofed file. I'm going to have to get back to Unie—some sort of silly resolution Carmen Olivero told me the council was taking up this afternoon. Keep me informed on Harrier's progress.”

“Yes, sir.”

Heading back outside, Meredith paused beside his car and peered for a moment toward the south. Two harvesters were visible in the fields, working to bring in the meager crop. Nearly thirty percent of the plants had died under the shock of having their trace metals twice yanked out of their soil.
I hope the
Celeritas
is bringing plenty of extra food,
he thought, climbing behind the wheel and starting the car.
And lots of spare fuel, too.

The last speech—Perez's, as usual—was already in progress when Meredith finally showed up, choosing a chair by the door instead of joining the others at the table. Carmen shot a brief look of annoyance his direction and then returned her attention to Perez and the other faces around the table. The outcome, unfortunately, was no longer really in doubt. From previous speeches and the accompanying applause, it was clear that at least six of the ten councillors were strongly in favor of Perez's resolution, and of the four remaining only two were definitely against. She'd hoped to at least get a tie situation, where she would have the deciding vote, but it was obviously not going to happen.

Perez sat down, and Carmen waited for the applause to run its course. “Further comments?” she asked. “Then we'll proceed directly to a vote. All in favor … ?”

The tally was a solid seven to three. Suppressing a grimace, Carmen turned to Meredith. “Colonel, the Council of Astra calls on you to issue an order barring all but Astran citizens from approach or examination of Mt. Olympus, the cable lying north of Wright, and all alien technology and artifacts that may be subsequently uncovered. Specifically, this order is to include both those members of Dr. Chang's group already on Astra and the various alien representatives currently in this solar system.”

“Request denied,” Meredith said briskly. “Any other business you want me here for?”

A ripple of displeasure went around the table, and Carmen braced herself for the inevitable outburst. But Perez kept his poise.

“I'm afraid you don't understand, Colonel,” he said calmly. “This is one resolution you're not going to simply sweep away into a corner somewhere. We've done our homework on this one: I have petitions signed by seventy-two percent of the inhabitants of Ceres that support this resolution, and other councillors have similar proofs of support from their districts. The Spinneret belongs to Astra, Colonel, and neither you nor the faceless bureaucrats in Washington are going to take it away from us.”

Meredith regarded him coolly. “You have a remarkably poor memory for certain facts of life, Perez, such as those dealing with your citizenship and my authority here. I'm at perfect liberty to ignore anything you or your seventy-two percent have to say—and if you get rude about it I can toss the lot of you into detention.”

Perez didn't bat an eye. “It wouldn't be nearly as neat and tidy as you make it sound. If you don't throw Chang's group out immediately, I can guarantee there will be rioting—and
this
time I won't be trying to hold anyone back.”

Meredith didn't move or change expression, but suddenly Carmen had the uncomfortable feeling that perhaps Perez had pushed the colonel a shade too far. “In such a case, Mr. Perez,” Meredith said, his voice deadly, “neither would I.”

“Of course,” Perez said. “And you would win … but only temporarily. Because signs of civil strife down here could very possibly persuade one or more of the aliens out there that we needed some strong, neutral hand on us—strictly for our own good, of course—and take the appropriate action.”

The room was very quiet. Meredith never flinched or broke eye contact with Perez, but Carmen sensed his frosty silence was a simple lack of any answer to that. After a few seconds Perez pulled a thick folder from the stack of papers in front of him and added to it a copy of the Council's resolution. Standing, he stepped over to Meredith and offered him the bundle. “I think you'll find, Colonel,” he said, “that above all else we
must
present a united front if we're going to survive here.”

Tight-lipped, Meredith got to his feet and accepted the papers. “We'll see,” he said shortly. With a single glance at Carmen he turned and left the room.

Carmen licked her lips. “This meeting is adjourned,” she said, banging her makeshift gavel with rather more force than necessary and immediately turning her full attention to loading her briefcase. The others took the hint and began packing their own paraphernalia without protest and with a minimum of quiet conversation. She waited until the last sounds of footsteps were cut off by the closing door before permitting her chosen expletive to come out.

“Agreed. And I apologize.”

She looked up, startled, to find Perez sitting quietly in the chair Meredith had recently vacated. “I thought you'd slithered out with the others,” she snarled.