“In other words, you think I should invite Perez,” Meredith said flatly.
Carmen swallowed. “Yes, sir. And maybe Dr. Hafner, too, as representative of the scientists.”
The silence this time was longer. “I suppose you’re right,” he said at last, reluctantly. “In the short run we can afford squabbles in front of Msuya more than we can afford riots in front of the Rooshrike. In the long run … well, that’ll have to take care of itself. All right, I’ll give them a call. Be at the Martello conference room as soon as you can; the shuttle’s due in under an hour, and I’d like time to confer with you first.”
Carmen already had the phone strapped to her wrist and was pulling on her underwear. “Half an hour or less, sir.”
“Good. By the way—any particular reason you suggested Perez and Hafner?”
“Yes, sir. Since they’ve seen the Spinner cavern, I thought they might have a clearer idea of what’s at stake here. That might make a difference.”
He grunted. “I hope you’re right. See you soon.”
Chapter 21
THE CONFERENCE ROOM AT Martello had been put together out of two offices and a small machine shop in anticipation of face-to-whatever meetings between Carmen and alien trade representatives. It was not yet even remotely plush, but the chairs were comfortable and the table had been polished to a high gloss. Standing stiffly behind his chair, Meredith glanced around the room once more, wishing they’d had more time to work on the place. A room adequate for meeting a Ctencri merchant seemed considerably less so for a talk with the Commander in Chief.
The far door opened and a young corporal stepped in, looking about as nervous as a soldier not actually under fire can look. “Colonel Meredith: may I present the President of the United States and Mr. Ashur Msuya of the United Nations.” Flattening against the door, the corporal snapped a salute as Allerton and Msuya strode past him into the room.
Followed by four quiet men in dark suits, who spread inconspicuously along the back wall. Secret Service? Meredith wondered. Or did Msuya decide to bring some muscle this time? Hiding his worry, he threw Allerton a salute of his own. “Mr. President; Mr. Msuya: welcome to Astra. I’m sorry we haven’t got a more elaborate ceremony for you, but we’re a bit short of brass bands here.”
Allerton smiled slightly at that; Msuya didn’t. “That’s quite all right,” the President said. “We’re actually here more on business, anyway.”
So we’re skipping even the pretense of a casual visit. Uh-oh. “I expected that was the case, sir,” he said. He gestured to the three people flanking him. “Permit me then to introduce Dr. Peter Hafner, Civilian Council Head Carmen Olivero, and Councillor Cristobal Perez, whom I’ve asked to sit in on the meeting. If there are no objections, of course.”
“There are,” Msuya said. “Having civilians here serves no useful purpose. You are in command on Astra, Colonel, and I for one have no patience with this ‘Civilian Council’ smokescreen.”
Deliberately, Meredith turned to Allerton. “Mr. President?”
“Mr. Msuya is correct in that all responsibility for Astran activities must rest with you,” Allerton said. “However, if you want to consider these people as advisors, I think we can accept their presence.”
Msuya growled something under his breath, and for an instant he and Allerton locked eyes. Then, with a fractional shrug, he pulled a chair out from the table and sat down. So, Meredith thought as Allerton and the Astrans followed suit, Allerton hasn’t completely knuckled under to UN pressure yet—or at least is willing to lock horns with Msuya on minor issues. Tucking away the information for future reference, he looked at Allerton and waited for the other’s move.
It wasn’t long in coming. “Colonel, we’ve been hearing reports recently of what must be considered unusual policy decisions coming out of your office. Your refusal to allow Mr. Msuya’s scientific team to study your Spinneret cable and your abrupt dismissal of Dr. Chang’s group at that same time, your inability to provide Earth with cable samples for study, and your apparent efforts toward unauthorized trade agreements have all raised questions about your fitness to command. I’d like to hear what explanations, if any, you have for your actions.”
A well-rehearsed speech, Meredith thought, keeping his eyes on the President. “Am I being court-martialed, sir?” he asked bluntly.
“Not in the usual sense, no. Neither your rank nor your record are in any danger. Only—as I said—your position on Astra.”
“I see.” Meredith glanced once at Msuya’s poker face, thinking furiously. “As far as the scientific teams are concerned, I believe my jurisdiction includes the final decision on personnel joining the colony, even if their stay is to be temporary. As the Rooshrike had retrieved the second Spinneret cable and I had already obtained assurances that they would share their test results with us, it seemed redundant and a little ridiculous to waste time with the few boxfuls of equipment we had available.”
“The time was ours to waste if we chose,” Msuya put in with a mildness that seemed to shelter the promise of later fireworks. “Furthermore, as a commissioned UN group we were legally outside your command authority.”
“Excuse me, Mr. Msuya, but I had no independent confirmation of that fact,” Meredith countered. “As I explained then, such orders or authorizations had to come through the holder of the mandate, namely the United States government.” He glanced at Carmen, got a small confirming nod. “Now, as to providing Earth with cable, we’re perfectly willing to do so once we figure out the best way to move it through hyperspace.”
“Free of charge?” Msuya asked.
“At the very least, we’ll need to be supplied with the equivalent mass in other metals—all of our customers will need to do that much. As for the price … we haven’t decided on such terms yet.”
“I see nothing requiring any decisions,” Msuya said. “Astra is UN territory; we should not have to pay for what is already ours.”
“Iowa is a state of the U.S.,” Meredith shrugged, “but its farmers don’t give their grain away free.”
Msuya arched his eyebrows. “I believe I said Astra was UN territory, not part of the U.S. Unless there is some unilateral agreement here I’m unaware of?”
“No, of course not,” Allerton said, throwing an annoyed look at Meredith. “Colonel Meredith was merely making an analogy.”
And a damn stupid one, too, Meredith berated himself. Msuya had a strong enough case without having extra ammunition hand-delivered to him. At his left Hafner shifted in his chair, and on his far right Perez muttered something inaudible.
“I see,” Msuya said, his tone making it clear the point was merely being postponed until later. “That of course leads directly into the whole question of trade agreements and your authority to make them. Do you deny you’re offering UN property—namely Spinneret cable—for sale without proper authorization?”
Meredith took a deep breath—and Carmen stepped unexpectedly into the brief pause. “It seems to me, Mr. Msuya, that we’ve kept very strictly to our legal duties, which I’ll point out include both development and defense of the Astran colony. We’re currently being orbited by ships of six alien races, more than half of them fully equipped warships. Do you have any idea what they could do if they thought we wanted to keep all of the Spinneret’s technology and cable production for ourselves?”
“You fought off the M’zarch attack well enough.”
“Through a combination of our luck and their ignorance,” Meredith said. “Miss Olivero is correct: the only way to keep our neighbors peaceful is to make sure they see immediate benefits for doing so.”
“So you’re saying these offers of cable are basically fraudulent?” Msuya asked.
“Absolutely not,” Meredith said. “Or would you have the human race stuck with a reputation as swindlers?”
“In other words, the UN had better rubberstamp your deals or else.”
He was pushing hard to get Meredith into a corner; and Meredith was s
tarting to get tired of it. “If you reject them you’d better be prepared to explain why we, as what the Rooshrike call an equal-status colony, are not permitted to make local trade arrangements. You’d better also be prepared to start any diplomatic overtures back at square one, in that event.”
“All right, then”—Msuya switched tracks smoothly—“as long as you’ve brought it up, what about this alleged trade agreement with the Rooshrike? Or were you unaware that the UN has an exclusive contract with the Ctencri?”
“If you’ll recall, Mr. Msuya, you ended your last visit to Astra by threatening us with total embargo of food and supplies,” Meredith reminded him. “You made it abundantly clear that we would starve. As Miss Olivero pointed out, I had an obligation to protect Astra. Opening up an independent supply line seems to me to come under that heading.”
He had the satisfaction of seeing the other frown with surprise; apparently that wasn’t a defense he’d expected. “You can’t protect your colony against its owners,” he growled at last. “That’s a completely ridiculous argument.”
“Perhaps,” Meredith shrugged. “But I have yet to see any proof that these threats and orders are the genuine will of the UN. It could just as easily be that the Ctencri are threatening Earth with an embargo of its own unless the UN obeys its orders in this matter.”
Msuya stared at him for a moment, his jaw working with either rage or frustration. Then, leaning back in his chair, he gave Meredith a cold smile. “You dance exceedingly well, Colonel, especially for a military man. Let’s see if you can dance out of this.” He waved a negligent hand toward Allerton. “Mr. President?”
Allerton had the look of a bad toothache on his face. But his voice was firm enough. “Colonel Meredith, as Commander in Chief of the United States Armed Forces, I order you to comply fully with any and all instructions Mr. Msuya may give you concerning the Spinneret equipment or cable.”
Meredith pursed his lips, trying hard to think. “Has the U.S. mandate been rescinded, then?” he asked in an effort to gain time.
“No, you’re still in command of the colony itself. It’s only the Spinneret that the UN will be handling directly.”
“I see.” So we’ve knuckled under to threats of embargo, he thought bitterly. “Suppose I refuse?”
Allerton didn’t bat an eye, “Then you’d be relieved of duties and brought back to the States aboard the UN ship.”
Meredith nodded slowly. “Which means you brought my potential successor along with you. May I ask who he is?”
“You’ll be replaced by General Benigno Sandoval of the People’s Republic of the Philippines,” Msuya spoke up. “And, yes, he is aboard the main ship.”
A puppet for Msuya to work, Meredith guessed, given the mess the ten-year-old regime had made of the Philippine economy. Either way, the UN is going to have the Spinneret now. Unless …
At his left, Hafner stirred. “May I ask, Mr. Msuya, just what you’ll do with the Spinneret if you’re put in charge?”
Msuya’s eyes hardened briefly at the if. “We’ll be continuing your work, mainly: learning about the equipment and how to use it.”
“With all this knowledge going exclusively to the UN, as opposed to all the world’s governments?”
“Primarily. We couldn’t risk the leak of sensitive material to the aliens.”
“I see.” Hafner paused. “And the cable, too, would be UN property, I suppose. How would it be distributed to countries who want to, say, build suspension bridges with it? Free, or would you charge for it?”
“I don’t see that as any of your business,” Msuya told him bluntly.
“Oh, but it is,” Perez spoke up. “You see, whoever is giving the orders is going to need Dr. Hafner and myself to escort all of his workers into the Spinneret control room.”
“Really.” Msuya favored him with a patronizing smile. “Some local union regulation, I suppose?”
“No,” Perez countered tartly. “More a matter of continued breathing.”
Msuya snorted. “If you mean to threaten us—”
“Not at all. If you’ll permit me, I’d like to explain about the things we call Gorgon’s Heads.” In a few crisp sentences Perez described the Spinners’ security machines and the apparent misunderstanding that had given five of the Astrans free passage among them. By the time he finished, Msuya’s amused look had vanished completely. “So you see,” Perez concluded, “we couldn’t in good conscience help you unless we were convinced your plans were the best possible for the common people of Earth.”
Msuya studied him, his eyes flicking briefly to Meredith and Hafner as well. Meredith held his peace, trying to figure out what exactly Perez was angling for. A UN commitment to the expanded immigration the Hispanic wanted? Or was it something more basic—personal power in the new Astran regime, perhaps?
Msuya might have been reading his mind. “I think I can assure you, Mr. Perez—and you also, Dr. Hafner—that we’ll take every step necessary to make sure the Spinneret is used to benefit all mankind. I’m sure your input will be considered extremely valuable; perhaps associate directorships of Spinneret operations for you and the other three would be the proper way to make your importance official.”
“An interesting offer.” Perez leaned forward to look past Carmen at Meredith. “I must apologize to Colonel Meredith thought—I don’t believe he had finished his discussion with you and President Allerton. Colonel?—the floor is yours.”
Meredith gazed at Perez’s face for a heartbeat before turning back to Allerton. What is he up to? He’s got Msuya’s offer—why turn the conversation back to me? Just to see if I’ll go ahead and hang myself?
“Actually, we were about finished,” Allerton said. He, too, was looking at Meredith … and his intense expression was nearly a duplicate of Perez’s. “The colonel will be turning over Spinneret operations to Mr. Msuya immediately.”
Meredith braced himself. All right, you ghouls, here I go. Watch me twist in the wind. “No, sir, I will not,” he said. “I don’t feel Mr. Msuya or any other UN official can handle the Spinneret under the current conditions as well as we of Astra can, and I can’t in good conscience relinquish my command to him.”
“Then you’re relieved of all duty,” Msuya said, the satisfaction in his voice unmistakable. “General Sandoval can be down in an hour; until then—”
“One moment, sir,” Perez interrupted mildly. “I don’t believe the Council’s been consulted on whether General Sandoval would be an acceptable replacement for Colonel Meredith.”
Msuya stared at him. “What are you talking about? Who the UN appoints to oversee its territory is its own business.”
Perez looked at Carmen. “Miss Olivero, I submit such an attitude toward a duly elected assembly indicates the UN’s unfitness to properly manage the Spinneret.”
“I agree,” she said, a slight tremolo in her voice betraying her tension. “Mr. President; Mr. Msuya—pending an official vote, the Astran Council tentatively rejects Colonel Meredith’s replacement.”
“What sort of nonsense is this?” Msuya snorted. “Meredith is leaving Astra and that’s final. If you don’t like it you can send a protest to General Sandoval through one of his troops.”
‘“Troops’?” Hafner asked. “So now you’re bringing in occupation—”
Meredith silenced him with a gesture. “Miss Olivero is right,” he said quietly. “I’m not leaving Astra.”
The silence from the other end of the table was thick enough to drive tent stakes into. “You will leave,” Msuya said at last, “or you will be guilty of treason, both to your own country and to the UN. Your own troops will turn on you rather than share in your crime.”
“Possibly. But you may overestimate their loyalty to the UN. Most of us remember your lack of genuine interest in Astra before the cables began appearing.”
“You have a paltry four hundred men,” Msuya barked, his control snapping at, last. “I can rent a cargo cruiser from the Ctencri and have four
times that many here in ten days. Do you want to see your people ground like vermin into the dust?”
Meredith lifted his left arm, tapped the phone strapped to his wrist. “In less time than it takes for your sixteen hundred men to board their shuttles, I can be in contact with the chief Rooshrike representative out there. What do you think he’d do if I told him I was being invaded and asked for his help?”
“I’d simply explain you were no longer in charge—”
“He knows me. He doesn’t know you.”
“The Ctencri would support our demand.”
“The Ctencri have no warships here … and the Rooshrike aren’t disposed toward doing them favors.”
Msuya spat something venomous-sounding, the tightness of his jaw visible through his cheeks.
Allerton cleared his throat. “You realize, though, that Mr. Msuya is right about the legal consequences here,” he said. “By disobeying my direct order you automatically draw a court-martial. All of you, in fact, will almost certainly be found in violation of various federal laws, up to and possibly including treason.”
Meredith focused on him. “All Astrans who’d rather not stay under the new conditions will be allowed to leave on the next ship,” he said, wishing he knew what the other was thinking. Allerton’s words were harsh enough and his tone only marginally less so; but his expression was relaxed almost to the point of contentment. Is this what he really wants? he wondered. Open rebellion that’ll draw the UN’s fire away from the U.S.? In that case he’s got a real treat in store. “For the rest of us, I expect you’ll have to try us in absentia. But I’m not sure American laws will apply to citizens of a foreign nation.”
The words hung in the air for a good three seconds before anyone else caught on. “A what?” Hafner whispered as Carmen and Perez turned to look at him.
Allerton’s expression never changed. “You’re seceding from the union, then?” he asked.
“Not really, sir—Astra never was technically U.S. territory. We are declaring independence, however.”