Narval sat hunched over as Drummer and Brad
entered. He did not wait for them to approach.
"Well? Speak up, Drummer," he snapped. "Don't
wait for a special invitation."
"The replies to your message have come in, Mr.
President. They are all in the affirmative. Their
fleets are getting ready."
"Ah hah!"
Narval's head shot up, and he straightened as
much as his deeply cushioned chair would allow. He
patted the top of his desk, and his face creased
into a broad grin, flushed with triumph. Eyes
dancing from Drummer to Brad and back, he patted
the desk once more, obviously enjoying the moment.
The grin quickly transformed into one of deadly
cunning.
"That takes care of my first objective," he
said. "From here they are both independent and
interdependent. You must plan carefully and carry
out my instructions without deviating."
Eyes fixed on Drummer, he raised his jeweled hand
to point at him.
"I have already told you how you fit into my plans
for the future." Turning to Brad, "You have proven
yourself a reliable and resourceful leader, Brad.
When I have attained my goals, you, along with
Drummer, will be amply rewarded with material
wealth and positions of honor. I tell you this
now because in my world loyalty has a price, and
you are entitled to know I will pay it. How do you
stand?"
"I hear and I understand, Mr. President," Brad
replied and, without a flinch, "I stand with you."
"Good."
Leaning as far forward as his paunch would allow,
Narval motioned Drummer and Brad forward. They
took chairs close to the desk.
"Drummer, I appoint you Commander of the Combined
Fleet, and I now order you to take the objective.
Brad, I appoint you Drummer's Chief of Combat
Operations. I will issue the necessary orders to
all Commanders of the Plutonian fleet and to the
Commanders of our allied forces."
Narval watched Drummer and Brad's faces as he
spoke. Both returned his gaze with grim, attentive
expressions.
"When you have taken the objective, only Scarf's
security troops are to be allowed to board and take
stations throughout the facility. You have another
task.
"Once internal security is established, invite the
ship commanders to a celebration on your flagship.
Reject declinations; they must appear. Permit the
celebration to go on for a bit, then, Drummer, the
bolt.
"Announce to the assembled Commanders -- those
of the Plutonian fleet and those of our allies --
that I have instructed you to take their oath of
allegiance to me, Narval of Planet Pluto, and to
none other. Those who refuse are to be eliminated
on the spot in plain view of the others. Those who
agree are to be placed under psychic probes, then
and there, to ensure that their oath of allegiance
to me is without reservation. Any who fail to pass
the test are to join the ones that openly refused.
No second chances. Understood?"
"Understood," Brad said.
Drummer nodded, his face gone pale.
"Transfer contingents of Scarf's troops from
the objective to your flagship, several hundred if
necessary, whatever number you need to cover the
operation. Make certain that you transfer enough
technicians to set up and operate the psychic
probes. If any Commanders or their staffs chose
to be feisty, the troops are your execution squads.
"The ships of those Commanders who refuse to swear
allegiance to me will be boarded by our troops, and
all resistance crushed. Subterfuge may be necessary;
do not hesitate: the end justifies the means.
Replace the original INOR Commanders with officers
next in command; promise them wealth and position,
use the psychic probes to verify their decisions;
at some point in the pressures that we will apply
INOR officers will switch their allegiance to Pluto.
"When your takeover is complete, the combined
INOR fleet will be under my control. I shall then use
this power to challenge the conferees and dictate
my terms to both the UIPS and INOR's rulers."
"Timing is of the utmost importance," Brad
reflected.
"Exactly," Narval said sharply. "All of your plans
and timetables must be synchronized with the
actions I take at the conference."
"Any attacks on the depot will be immediately
spunnel-flashed by Hanno to the UIPS," Drummer said.
"I've thought about that," Narval replied. "Brad,
I want your man, Zolan, to install generators and
controls for an electronic barrier sunside of the
Planet Pluto Special Zone to keep all messages from
the UIPS, conventional or spunnel, from passing
through. Can he do it?"
"Yes."
"Good. I will transmit a coded message to you from
my ship when I have the agenda for the conference.
The message will tell you when to energize
the barrier. I must control the timing on this
operation so precisely that the conferees have
minimal warning before I make my announcement.
Vitally important: the electronic barrier must
go up sufficiently in advance of launching your
operations against the target so that no messages
of the attack passes through from the depot, the
terminals site, or any UIPS ships in the area. The
comm-blackout will itself set off alarms throughout
the UIPS. By then, it will be too late for them to
interfere."
"Sounds reasonable, Mr. President," Brad said.
"Once we get the situation under control, including
lining up the Commanders of the allied warships,
we can punch a hole in the barrier just big enough to
get a flash through to you at the conference site,
giving you the score."
"Excellent, Brad, excellent."
Narval beamed at his new Commander of Combat
Operations and twisted his mouth into a malevolent
grin.
"One change," he said, eyes on Brad. "Up to
now, the objective of your strategic planning and
tactics has been the Depot. Now here this: the
Depot is no longer the target. Your target is
the Slingshot construction site including the
'Terminals'. You are to take control of the entire
complex and hold it as my hostage. Adjust your
plans, tactics and schedules accordingly."