Rymer Camari, President of the United Inner
Planetary System entered his official residence's
conference room in a brisk walk, a loose, gray
ankle-length robe draped about his thin shoulders.
He nodded perfunctory greetings to his Ministers
of Intelligence and Diplomatic Protocols, and to the
Commander of the UIPS Space Forces as he took
his seat at the head of the long table. An abundant
mane of white hair framed his aged features; his
stony glare reflected the rage they shared.
A panel in the wall slid upward to reveal a
two-meter square well. A cylindrical view tank
filled its available space. The tank cleared to the
United Inner Planetary System's standard simulation.
Colored and geometric symbols glowed the real
time positions of UIPS planets and their natural and
artificial satellites and outposts, schema of space
traffic lanes, space spunnel booster stations,
the Asteroids, and the twenty Guardian Stations
equidistant along the Asteroids' outer perimeter.
Stroking a key embedded nearby in the table the
President brought the Strategic Concepts Computer
on line. "Computer," he said, "integrate these
proceedings into the database. Follow, analyze
in depth across-the-board and display."
Turning to the Space Force Commander he said,
"What's the situation, Jim?" His voice was flat
with the effort to control his anger.
Admiral Jim Selvin, shifted his stocky torso about
to ease his discomfort. Battle-flinty eyes cast a
quick baleful glance at his colleagues and turned
to face the President. Thin lips, slashed across
his rough-hewn face, twisted as he spoke.
"There's little to add to what we had an hour
ago," he said. "Two good pilots dead; two
impossible-to-replace patrollers destroyed."
Rubbing his chin vigorously, he grated, "We
confirmed that the bandit beamer drew back into
an underground tunnel that cuts into an ice gorge
south of Coldfield. Their weapons' cache is even
now being approached by unidentified tugs. No doubt
that they're Narval's thugs and they're going to
clamp a tow beam on the stores and haul them off to
some subsurface storage or assembly shop. Once the
weapons are assembled, installed and calibrated we
could be on the receiving end of more nastiness."
Leaning forward over the table, he looked directly
at the President. His hand transformed into a fist,
and he pounded the table in cadence with his words.
"Mr. President," he said, "the real hell of it is
we can't stop them, and we've got no one to blame
but ourselves. It's downright unrealistic to keep
our self-defense forces in the Special Zone so far
below what's needed to protect our vital interests."
"What do you suggest, Jim," the President shrugged,
"break our treaties with the Outer Region? What'll
that get us?"
Jim looked directly into the President's eyes.
"But they're the ones violating the treaties,"
he growled. "If we've ever needed irrefutable
evidence, we've just had it rammed down our
throats. We'd better get off our duffs and do
something."
Allen Dynal, Minister for Intelligence, nodded in
agreement, but did not speak. His turn was coming.
Selvin leaned back, turned his head to scowl at the
view tank. Together, they contemplated the forming
scene.
The Admiral's outburst had given subject matter
guidance to the computer. The display shifted to
the Planet Pluto Special Zone. Two tiny red lights
flashed rapidly at the coordinates where the
attacks had occurred. A steady blue light tracked
the hijacked stores.
Selvin continued. "The entire sector from which
this attack was launched is honeycombed with
utility passages and subsurface supply and
maintenance shops," he said. "They date back to
when our earliest construction cadres went in.
The subsurface should have been returned to its
original state when we had no further use for the
tunnels and galleries. We did start to collapse the
ice walls and overheads; obviously, we didn't get
very far."
Selvin sighed, heavily.
"Understandable," he went on. "Hundreds of
junctions and cutouts were dug to serve one-time
needs. They were never mapped. The same can be
said for subsurface technical facilities. No question
that many are still usable."
The view tank's image blurred, then cleared to show
a broad expanse of Pluto's barren surface out to
the planet's horizon. A white, steady glow identified
Coldfield, the surrounding red and blue lines
identified scores of subsurface passageways and
rutted trails that curved away from the domed city
in all directions.
"There's no doubt that the underground passages
and caverns are being used by Narval as maintenance
and operations hangars for his fleet," Selvin said
returning his eyes to Camari. "Many have enough
room to accommodate nuclear energy capsules, ship
and equipment repair shops, and catapult launchers.
Pseudo-gravity enhancers during construction
stabilized the floors. Foundations are secured deep
in the frozen surfaces, and bonded well enough,
so that even under the planet's low density, they'll
take the weight of battle wagons."
The silence hung heavily as Selvin glared at the
view tank. His voice rasped. "They must have
installed heavy screens in the overheads. Many
of our penetration readings are dim, even with
our most advanced sensors."
"That's all I have for now, Mr. President," he
said, leaning back. Absently, his stubby fingers
drummed the tabletop. He caught himself and
glanced about guiltily as he drew his hands back
to the edge of the table.
Camari's eyes moved on to a somber-faced ancient
who gravely returned his stare. "Let's hear the
intelligence review, Allen," the President said.
The Minister for Intelligence placed his clasped
hands before him on the table and spoke. His voice
was hoarse, low and intense, and his eyes moved
from the President to Jim Selvin, who faced him
grimly.
The view tank flickered, clouded and cleared to an
overview of the Outer Region. The scale reduced
planets, satellites, and stations to the colored
pinpoints of light with which they all were long
familiar. The computer adjusted to focus on
a magnified Plutonian sector. The Uranus and
Neptune orbits, although contained within the
tank displays, were cut out by the compression.
The Slingshot Construction Site rode the rim.
"Updating, the latest reports of military
construction, commitments and political
realignments among the Outer Nations are ominous,"
Allen said. "They're pledging themselves to each
other through mutual assistance pacts and are
building military spacecraft, weapons and support
systems to back up their agreements."
Pointing thoughtfully with his right forefinger at
his left palm, Allen updated the military assets of
each opposing nation, and correlated its potential
capabilities to economic resources over the coming
decades and centuries until Slingshot reduced the
solar system's deficits. He wove into his analysis
the effects of orbital dynamics on normal and
spunnel transit times from each Inner and Outer
Region point-of-origin to the Slingshot work sites.
He moved on to the status of weapons research
and development, and identified the locations of
the Outer Region's weapons manufacturing sites
and military training facilities.
"The long-term defense of Slingshot through purely
military means," he added, following a deep breath,
"especially in protecting our routes and the Log
Depot, is, as Jim stated, not possible given the
prevailing circumstances. The so-called members
of the Independent Nations of the Outer Region are
expanding their field of operations, and they get
generous support from satellite collectives and
individual sympathizers throughout the region.
"Our intelligence sources," Allen concluded,
"report that many supporters of Plutonian
objectives are, themselves, descendants of the
insurrectionists that fomented the dissolution
of our first interplanetary union. Now, it seems,
their intent is to destroy Slingshot, and us as
well."
Allen Dynal and Jim Selvin glanced at each other;
they were not in disagreement.
Camari broke the hush that followed Dynal's words.
"We are well into an armed confrontation," he said.
"Nevertheless, whatever actions we take must
minimize destruction to life and property,
require no diversions from resources allocated
to Slingshot, and in no way restrict Slingshot's
construction and launch schedules."
Turning his head slightly, he nodded at the last
of his three advisors. Chan Dahl, Minister of
Diplomatic Protocols, laid his massive forearms on
the table, palms down. His abrasive voice matched
his heavy features and rotund body. He spoke
rapidly in summary fashion: offering little that
was new, Chan passed quickly over the diplomatic
chasm that had formed between the UIPS and
the Outer Region after the dissolution of the first
United Planetary System. He summarized the complex
alliances that had evolved among the independent
governments beyond the Asteroids following the
secession, and moved on quickly to the initiatives
of his Ministry to reconcile inter-regional
differences.
"The issue of the transit fee is critical," he
said. "Each Outer Region nation has expressed
vehement impatience to get on with its toll tax on
the UIPS for each transport or other vessel that
enters space contiguous to their planetary and
satellite orbits. They insist that such space
is legally within their natural boundaries, and
that by merely passing through, we trespass.
Restitution, they claim, is in order.
"Negotiations remain in limbo. The impasse will,
quite likely, remain for some time. Our position is
unchanged: the fees that they demand are without
justification, an extortion to which we cannot
submit."
Throughout the discussions, the Strategic Concepts
Computer flashed a continuing display. As each
topic was opened for discussion the view tank
portrayed the corresponding regions, sectors,
planets or satellites, shifting from one to the
other as needed to clarify points under discussion
or accompany the exploration for alternatives. The
lower section of the tank registered the computer's
quantification of speculations by the President's
advisors, and their probabilities toward
realization.
Finally, President Camari raised his hand. He
pressed a softly glowing disk on the table. The
view tank cleared. Resting his chin in the palm of
one hand, Camari gently rubbed his temple with
the fingertips of the other.
"Instructions to Strategic Concepts Computer," he
began. "Summarize the facts adverse to our cause
and our options for dealing with each. Arrange and
rate the options according to their probabilities
for results favorable to the UIPS, and separately,
favorable to the interests of the Outer Region's
Nations. Consider UIPS limitations in nonrenewable
metals, minerals and other vital reserves until
Slingshot begins to produce. Take the options into
account and assume that Slingshot will succeed
on schedule and will generate sufficient refined
matter over time to meet the needs of both Regions.
"Project each option's draw down on resources
committed to Slingshot, and estimate their impact
on schedules. We may need to gamble here. Crank
in the latest estimates on the years it will take
for the Extractor to reach Alpha Centauri, get
organized around the job, go online, and begin to
produce. Compute out to the time that we will
have rebuilt stockpiles within the Solar System."
Leaning slowly back into his chair as he spoke,
Camari lowered his hands into his lap. His eyes
moved from one advisor to the other. They returned
his gaze, the bleakness in their eyes matching his
own. "Try different combinations within the options
and rate them," he continued. "Examine our treaties
with the other powers and status of current
negotiations and pending proposals. Show how
each option, which has statistical probability
for success up to exponent three can adversely
affect those treaties or negotiations."
Camari drew a deep breath. "We need to take
a fresh look at where we are. We've also got to
avoid political irritations that may exacerbate the
situation further. On the other hand, revisions to
treaties and to our positions at the negotiating
tables may be essential. Slingshot may solve our
disagreements, but we cannot wait.
"Review our readiness and activation sequences
consistent with our Quick Reaction Capability to
deal with contingencies in the Slingshot Special
Zone. Work up details on what needs to be done and
by whom to upgrade our QRC initiatives for each
contingency that I keyed in as probable. Show
costs in still accessible resources separately and
integrate results with relevant commitments and
schedules. Draft implementation plans and execution
directives to commit resources. Update constantly,
but keep all implementation directives on 'hold'
until I direct otherwise.
"We meet again in two hours," Camari, said, rising
from his chair. "Computer: be ready to give a
presentation on each option and its variations
within the parameters I specified and which surface
through your analyses. Double-check resource
requirements and schedules, and tactical options
and their possible effects on UIPS forces and
assets in the Special Zone. Maintain current. When
I select the course of action and authenticate them
with the Presidential Implementation Designators,
release directives to implement the decisions.
Monitor and report. This completes my instructions
to Computer."
The President turned toward the door from which
he had entered. Pausing, he glanced back at the
Minister of Intelligence.
"Allen," he said, "give me a rundown, within the
hour, on our intelligence assets throughout the
Outer Region. I am especially interested in your
ability to intensify earliest possible infiltration
and disruption throughout Narval's domain."
The door slid shut as he passed through. The
wall panel across the view tank cavity lowered
as the advisors departed.
The Strategic Concepts Computer presented
visual displays accompanied by a gently modulated
audio. The analysis was incisive, the coverage
comprehensive. At its conclusion, the President
scanned the faces of his Ministers and the
Commander of the Space Forces.
"Comments?"
Scores of questions probed and tested the
computer's logic and conclusions. Questions became
observations, which, following discussion, became
revisions that, were instantly extended to
corollaries. Often, objectives and programs
were adjusted. Finally, it was done -- for the
time being.
Rising from his seat, the President's eyes took
in his grim advisors. Speaking softly, he passed
decisions on several recommendations to his
Ministers, Admiral Selvin, and into the Computer.
Done, they sat silently for several moments,
weighing the decisions' potential effects.
Rising and making his way toward the doorway,
Camari motioned to the Minister of Intelligence.
"I've read your report on our assets in the Outer
Region, Allen. I have a special task for your
Ministry."
He motioned the Minister for Intelligence to join
him. They passed through and the door closed
silently.