Narval slouched back into his overstuffed chair.
Drummer faced him from across the enormous
ebony-composite desk.
Bringing his hand close, Narval searched for a
fingernail that demanded his attention.
"President Camari must accept that we have the
military forces to impose our will on Slingshot,"
he said, momentarily shifting his eyes to Drummer.
"If he does not accept my offer I want to ram it
down his throat. Have you come up with an action
to implement our new policy?"
"I have."
"Lay it out."
"With no advance notice, impose the inventory tax
on all Slingshot supplies on board the Depot and
on UIPS vessels on both sides of the Fandango
force field. The first step is to conduct our own
inventory of UIPS property in Plutonian space; to
do that we must have on site access to the Depot's
records, and spot check the records against the
assets. The presence of our military forces in
space close to the Depot will back up our inventory
staff. Businesslike, formal, and highly visible."
"Why don't you use that tactic on the dozens of
Slingshot laboratories and assembly centers here
on Pluto's surface? Seems to me that would be
less risky."
"For good reasons, Mr. President. We need
an exercise that is sufficiently visible, even
spectacular, to make both the UIPS and our
INOR allies respect our will and capabilities to
use organized military forces throughout our
legitimate jurisdiction. A surface operation on
Pluto will be barely noticed and not impress them
with our military strength."
"How do you expect the Depot to react?"
"At first, with confusion. The Depot Commander
will try to bluff. Meanwhile, he'll spunnel an alarm
to Earth and insist on guidance. We must not
accept delay."
"What if you meet resistance?"
"Overcome it. Set an example. After all, we are
exercising our rights as a sovereign nation."
"And after the inventory?"
"If peacefully accomplished, we withdraw. We'll
spunnel formal documentation to the UIPS on the
amount of taxes due, the schedule for payment
and penalties for delinquencies."
"The penalties?"
"I have several in mind. Fines for minor delays,
blockade of the depot and, eventually, military
action should they get nasty."
"How soon can you launch?"
"Three days."
"Do it."
Drummer turned to leave. Narval raised his jeweled
hand. Drummer paused and turned back.
"What's this I've heard from Scarf about you taking
a pack of escaped Inner Region convicts under your
wing?"
"There's more to it than that," replied Drummer.
He filled in the gaps.
Narval scrutinized his fingernails as Drummer
talked.
"I'm surprised to hear you patronize drinking
establishments where such raffish elements gather,"
Narval murmured around the focus of his attention.
"I feel it my duty to get about, to see, and to
listen. There is much to learn by observing our
people going about their daily lives. The Charnel
Pit is one of the few places in Coldfield where
people gather to relax and talk."
Narval peered sideways at Drummer from narrowed
eyes.
"Hm, you see and you listen to the people. What
else, I wonder? Do the people also see and listen
to you? What do you tell them, Drummer?"
"I tell them nothing, President Narval. I don't
know what you mean."
"Well, let it go for now. Back to your little
brood. You say they're experienced spacers, and
you've checked the facts of their escape. You
know we're short-handed in technicians for the
military fleet. Can we use them?"
"I'm not certain that I trust them," Drummer
responded.
"Test them."
"How?"
"Take them along on the inventory operation."
"...and?"
"As I say, test them. Force whoever is leading them
into a difficult situation. Keep him close to you
and watch how he works himself out of it. If he
does well, throw him to another pack of wolves. Get
him and his gang involved, deeper. Make them prove
themselves. When you're satisfied, bring them up
to a level where we're squeezing from them all
they have that's useful to us."
"Scarf is after them."
"Leave Scarf to me, Drummer. That's all."
##
Scarf entered and waited for Narval to notice him.
Narval's eyes were fixed on his hands. He spoke
without looking up.
"Drummer has given me his side of the incident
in the bar-room," he said, his voice cutting with
sarcasm. "The hangers-on in that sinkhole have,
by now, spread their version all over Coldfield,
Lamplight, as well as the depot and Slingshot.
You came out of it looking like a fool in a
confrontation that enhances Drummer's image to
the detriment of the President's Chief of Security."
Narval raised his head. His small eyes drilled into
Scarf.
"I don't trust Drummer," he said. "I suspect him
of trying to subvert my rule. He's too popular in
the Council and among the officers and men of
the military fleet. I can't chance direct action
against him at this time. For the moment, I need
his expertise in military strategy and managing
our resources.
"I'm looking to you to find or create enough
evidence so that, when I'm ready, we can undermine
Drummer's reputation. As it is, you've built him up
by embarrassing your high position in my government.
Do your job right, and my problem with Drummer
will fade away. I'm not pleased at all with your
progress so far."
Scarf's face was flushed.
"Yes, sir," he said. "My intent was to accost
Drummer in a public place, draw him out, and make
him look foolish. The circumstances in the Charnel
Pit were fine, or so I thought. Intervention by an
outsider was totally unexpected. When I get my
hands on that convict, I have plans for him."
"Hold off, Scarf. You can have him when I'm done
with the pack, including Drummer. Until then, put
your anger aside."
"Yes, sir."
"Now, listen carefully."
Narval leaned forward, eyes on Scarf. He described
Drummer's upcoming inventory operation. Stubby
fingers smoothed the desk surface.
"I'll tell Drummer that I want you to go along
on the inventory," he said. "Think up a reason;
I don't care what it is so long as it gets you
aboard. The real reason is to keep your eyes on
Drummer, the operation, and these convicts he's
harboring. I want to know everything that happens.
Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir. I do." Scarf's eyes lit up. He continued
eagerly. "If Drummer goes to the depot or boards
UIPS ships, I should go along to see what he does.
As Chief of Security, my position should compel him
to accompany him. I suggest, sir, that you appoint
me as your counter-intelligence representative
on Drummer's task force. My job, then, would be
to check if the depot or a transport, whichever
we board, is conducting secret surveillance of
our military facilities, field training, and ship
movements. Drummer can be told that my boarding
the depot would be essential to the mission you've
assigned to me."
"Hasn't our man on the depot told us they've been
performing those observations for the UIPS for
quite a while? Wouldn't Drummer see through that
ploy?"
"Not if you tell him this would be the first
opportunity for your Chief of Security to enter
a UIPS domain and report to you directly on his
observations. It would take me out from under
Drummer's command."
"Hm, yes, I see what you mean." Narval returned
to examining his fingernails. He lifted a finger to
his lips and nibbled.
"Very well, Scarf. I'll tell Drummer."