"Then I suggest you dispense with posturing and
arrange to receive the inventory crews. Please
instruct all Masters of transports and other ships
doing business with your depot to cooperate with
our agents."
Another voice cut in, heavy with anger.
"No goddamned shakedown artists are coming
aboard my ship."
Brad motioned Drummer to give him the mike,
indicating by his facial expression that the
intruder did not deserve a direct response
from Drummer's level.
"This is Commander Curtin," Brad said with
low-toned authority, "Executive to Admiral
Drummer. Who speaks?"
He winked at Drummer, who leaned back in his
chair, grinning.
"Lieutenant Bura, commanding the transport
Sandbox. I repeat: keep your damn squeeze clerks
away from my ship, regardless how legitimate
you claim your purpose to be."
"You're in no position to refuse," Brad shot back.
"You're in Plutonian territory, and we have every
right to employ police or military powers to
enforce our jurisdiction. You will cooperate in
this inventory, peacefully, if possible; under
force, if necessary."
"You'll have to fight your way on to my ship."
Bura's voice was harsh, angry. "Be advised we are
armed and prepared to repel unauthorized boarders.
I take your demands to be attempted extortion, and
a clear threat to the safety of my ship, crew and
cargo. That, at the least, is piracy in my book,
and I am within my authority to use force to keep
pirates off my ship. Now, chew on that."
"Lieutenant Bura." Brad's voice was space-cold.
"You now insult the Plutonian Government by
accusing it of piracy. Your attitude gives us good
reason to question the purpose of your presence
in our territory. By your words, you command an
armed vessel. Now you dare to threaten legitimate
representatives of a sovereign nation with your
guns. We have no choice but to conclude you are
a danger to our ships and to our people."
"Ridiculous. I am merely protecting the safety
and integrity of my ship."
"So you say. Nevertheless, you have threatened
to use force against our exercise of legitimate
rights. Tell me, Bura, is your ship really a
commercial cargo transporter or is it a UIPS
warship with a military mission inside our legal
jurisdiction?"
"What in hell are you trying to do, whoever you
are? My ship is a transporter of cargo, and you
know that damned well."
"I know no such thing. All I know is that you claim
to be armed and say you will use your weapons
against us. I repeat: are you on a military
mission?"
"No, damn it, I am not."
"I don't believe you."
"That's your problem."
"Not at all, my man, it's yours. You insult and
then threaten harm to us." Brad grinned at Drummer,
who was watching him with an appraising expression.
"Our fire control system has you marked and our
guns are trained on your ship. How does that strike
you?"
Silence.
"I say," Brad roared, "Bura of the Sandbox, how
does that strike you? You have ten seconds to
reply."
Lieutenant Bura's voice came in, low and tight
with suppressed rage.
"I read you, loud and clear. My gun crews are
standing down."
"Unacceptable, Bura," Brad said flatly, "you remain
a serious obstacle to the success of our mission.
Stand by and do not interrupt again. Admiral
Drummer wishes to complete this transaction with
the Depot Commander. Colonel Hanno, we are waiting
for your answer to Admiral Drummer's request,
which, I repeat, is to arrange for our inventory
specialists to perform their duties aboard your
Depot and the transports within your control area."
"I take note of your fleet's deployment, Admiral
Drummer," the voice of Colonel Hanno was
subdued but intense, "and the manner in which your
Executive responded to Lieutenant Bura's protest.
My responsibility for the safety of UIPS supplies,
properties and personnel under my command
and for UIPS vessels in the Planet Pluto Special
Zone leaves me no choice but to accede to your
outrageous demands. I do so under most solemn and
vigorous protest, and only because your guns are
trained at our heads. Be aware these conversations
are being recorded and spunnel-transmitted to my
Government as we speak."
"Your protests are noted, Colonel Hanno," Drummer
said, taking over. "Please convey our respects
to your Government. Now, as to procedure for
the audit, I suggest we set up a small group of
administrators and specialists to prepare schedules
and other details. This must be done immediately,
as we have no wish to delay your support operations
unnecessarily. Do you agree?"
"Yes."
"Good. One of my ships is now approaching the
Gateway. I realize you may have reservations
concerning one of my military craft entering your
restricted zone, and I respect your reservations.
Please have your representatives board the
Plutonian craft outside the Gateway. My specialists
are aboard, and the two groups can work out the
details. Is this satisfactory?"
"I reject your term 'satisfactory', and accede
under the same protest."
"I understand, Colonel Hanno. By the way, one
other matter, concerning the Sandbox. I cannot
accept Bura's assurance that his gun crews are
on 'stand down'."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, Colonel Hanno, that I insist on an
inspection of the Sandbox by members of my military
staff so that I am certain the Sandbox's guns are
not a threat to the safety of my fleet. I cannot
continue to dissipate my capabilities by the need
to keep the Sandbox under special surveillance
throughout this operation. The Sandbox guns must
be rendered inoperative and, frankly, I don't trust
Bura to perform that service for me."
"Lieutenant Bura," said Colonel Hanno, "I assume
that you and other ships' Commanders have been
listening in on this delightful exchange."
"I have."
"What do you say?"
"You're the Zone Commander."
"For the safety of your ship and the rest of us,
I recommend you comply with their demand."
"Yes, sir."
"Admiral Drummer?"
"Very good. Have the Sandbox stand by to receive
boarders. This completes our discussion, Colonel
Hanno. I'll get back to you if the situation calls
for it."