Ram entered the Log Depot's conventional
communications center and nodded to the young
operator.
"Make the contact," he said, adding, "Relay the
message through one of the transports; delete all
references that show this facility is in the loop."
Switches snapped as the operator nodded. His hands
sped across the keypad. A few moments passed and
his voice issued as an electronic whisper.
"Calling Planet Pluto Comm Center. This is the UIPS
Transport Akiba, Call Sign 943 dash 792. We have a
Priority One message for your government. Stand by
to record. Acknowledge."
A slight crackle.
"This is Planet Pluto Comm Center to Call Sign 943
dash 792. We are ready to record. Go ahead."
Ram drew a small plastic card from the breast
pocket of his tunic and handed it to the operator.
Without glancing at the card the operator slipped
it into a slot in the console. A light on the panel
blinked on and off and the card ejected. The
operator returned it to Ram with a single motion
and a smile.
"Message dispatched, sir."
##
Narval pushed the message aside and away. Face
flushed in anger, he stared at Drummer.
"What do you make of it?"
"The message is less than straightforward, Mr.
President," Drummer replied. "Ambassador Xindral
seemingly appeals for an audience with you to
discuss matters of interest to both his government
and ours. The suggested agenda it carries, however,
puts us on the defensive with barely room for
reasoning with his government. He asks for a
guarantee of safe conduct. As a legally constituted
government in a community of nations, and in
the absence of, shall we say, formal military
hostilities, such a request is not only
unnecessary, it is an affront. I suspect, Mr.
President, that the Ambassador's motives are to
place you at a disadvantage."
"I agree."
"His distrust of us is evident in the manner in
which the message was routed. Transmitted from
a cargo transporter off the depot's force field,
no less. His personal vessel must be somewhere in
the pack up there, but he obviously intends to keep
it hidden. Very unseemly for a formal visit by an
Ambassador."
"Your recommendations?"
Drummer paused, and spoke slowly, carefully.
"Consider the facts: his tour of the Outer Region
was preceded by a personal message from Camari
to Chiefs of State. He has had audiences with INOR
Presidents or Ministers. They have informed you of
their replies to his appeals. Those who declined to
meet with him took the course they did because
they had nothing to add to what had already been
stated by the others.
"Because of your initiatives, President Narval, you
are central among the INOR leaders in pressing the
issues between the Regions. Refusing to see him
may be interpreted by our colleagues in INOR as a lack
of conviction in our cause, or even as weakness. My
recommendation is that you see him, but manipulate
the discussions to give our rights dominance.
Insofar as 'safe conduct', I suggest we ignore the
insult, grant him permission to visit our planet,
and wish him a pleasant stay."
Narval drummed on the desk, pushed at the message
again, and shifted about. He was uncomfortable.
"I'll think about it, Drummer," he said.
"Meanwhile, extend the invitation, set up suitable
quarters for him away from our official guest
house, meet him when he arrives, and so on. Have
him stand by. When I decide on the approach to
the discussions, I'll let you know whether I'll meet
with him."
##
"Well, Scarf, have you finished reading that
thing?" Narval impatiently bit a fingernail.
"Yessir, Mr. President."
"Well?"
"Sir?"
"What the hell do you mean by 'sir'? I asked for
your opinion, dammit."
"Well, sir, he asks for an audience with you..."
Narval sighed. "Don't just repeat the message,
Scarf. Tell me what you know of this man."
Scarf's face lost its embarrassed flush and he
hastily pulled a reader device from his pocket.
Striking a series of keys, Scarf peered closely
at the screen. He pointed to the reader as
verification for his words.
"Ambassador Xindral is a senior Intelligence
Officer assigned to Slingshot. That's about all
we've got on him. Definitely not a run-of-the-mill
diplomatic type."
"That's what concerns me, Scarf. I'm highly
suspicious of his motives even if Camari did notify
us in advance. Intelligence officer, indeed. If he
becomes aware of our preparations and reports
back, our plans will be jeopardized. Drummer wants
me to see him. I don't want to be in the same room
with this person. Yet I can't refuse without losing
face. Now, get me out of this, Scarf."
"How far can I go, Mr. President?"
"As far as you like, just keep me out of it."
Scarf rubbed his beefy jaw reflectively, then
grinned.
"I have reason to suspect, Mr. President, that
this known UIPS intelligence officer is using an
Ambassadorial cover for purposes harmful to
Planet Pluto's internal security. How's that for
starters, sir?"
Narval's eyes gleamed with sudden craft.
"Go on," he said.
"His ostensible mission to meet with the President
of Planet Pluto is, in actuality, a guise under
which he intends to meet with dissident elements
among our people. His real mission is to subvert
and undermine the foundations of our government.
In other words, his coming here is to disrupt. He
should be dealt with according to the rules of his
own game, and not those of normal interplanetary
or interregional diplomacy."
"Explain."
"Agents that conduct a mission such as his are
expendable, Mr. President. There are no rules."
"Repercussions?"
"Whatever happens to him will be outside accepted
protocols, and will occur prior to his arrival at
the President's Official Residence. The incident
will result from initiatives taken by the UIPS
Ambassador, himself. The Government of Planet
Pluto will not be involved."
"Very well, Scarf. I leave it to you."
##
"Hodak," Brad motioned him forward. "I want you to
show me the new power pack for the cruiser being
overhauled in tunnel 3. Where is it?"
Hodak glanced at Brad, then away.
"It's still in the shop near the north side of the
dome. Take us a few minutes to get there."
"OK, let's go."
Leaving the cubicle that served as office they
boarded the strip. Standing close, they spoke
through unmoving lips.
"Ram's here."
"In Coldfield?"
"Not yet, but soon."
"What's up?"
"He's to see Narval. His job is to try to work out
an agreement that'll keep Slingshot construction
moving along."
"How'd you find out?"
"Drummer mentioned it to me in passing. He's
arranging a meeting between Narval and Ram."
"Has the time been set?"
"Not yet. Drummer's waiting for the go ahead from
Narval."
"You mean Narval isn't sure he wants to meet Ram?"
"Suspicious, isn't it?"
"Damn right."
Their eyes met and moved on to the passing scene.
"If there's to be an incident," Brad asked, "who'll
be setting it up?"
"Scarf, who else?"
"Soon as I hear when Ram's due and where he's to
be lodged, I'll get back to you. For as long as he's
on Planet Pluto your job is to keep him out of harm's
way."