The Universe — or Nothing, Meyer Moldeven [best color ebook reader txt] 📗

and arrive at consensus on sharing in the responsibilities for this, our family of planets and satellites. Let us search for ways to combine our diverse interests into a new and majestic pioneering spirit for the great leap to the stars yet to come.

"This is the challenge and the opportunity."

Chapter THIRTY-TWO

Narval's rage spluttered from his lips in a viperous hiss as he pointed at a baffled Drummer. Brad, straight-faced behind Drummer, stood easy. Scarf, off to the side, stiff and erect, stared blankly at the wall behind Narval, his features twitching to depress a smirk.

"You were responsible for Camari's emissary, Drummer. I've had you notified that I am ready to receive him. Where is he?"

"He's disappeared, Mr. President."

"So I'm told. What does that mean?"

"Your orders were to provide lodgings for the Ambassador somewhere other than the official guest house. I had no choice but to put him up at the Condor. When I was informed of the time that you agreed to see him, I went to the Condor to extend the formal invitation. He wasn't there. I inquired of the Condor's management and also among the citizens present. Several recalled him because of his unusual height, but no one, it seems, saw him leave." Glancing toward Scarf, he added, "I immediately requested your Chief of Internal Security to put out search parties. That's where it stands."

Narval turned to Scarf.

"Well?"

Scarf stiffened.

"We've searched the city, Mr. President," he said, "and can't find a trace of him under the dome. But we had several unexplained killings a short while ago and I'm sure he's involved. Two of my agents were gunned down on the street near air lock 43, apparently without reason, and their bodies were dumped down a utility access. Also, two of my guards, on special detail inside the air lock were killed. Add to that a communications blank-out swamped the same area about that time, and a space taxi is missing from the 43 ramp.

"We can't get a tracer on the taxi; its automatic location signal is out, and it doesn't respond to direct inquiry. All this, taken together, is very suspicious, and leads me to conclude the Ambassador skipped rather than meet with you."

Brad's eyes moved gravely from one speaker to the other.

"Drummer." Narval turned back to him. "When you met with Camari's Ambassador, what did you discuss?"

Drummer shrugged and stroked his chin.

"Just the routine chit-chat of protocol: small talk about the inconveniences of long hops and living out of traveling kits. Oh, yes, we expressed our hopes for a better future when Slingshot cuts in. That was about it."

"Then why would he leave so abruptly?"

"I have no idea, Mr. President."

"This incident does not please me, Drummer. A special envoy arrives from the UIPS, obviously carrying an important message to me from President Camari. He leaves before he delivers the message, with no advance notice. As he leaves he kills several Plutonian citizens and steals property. No, I don't like it at all, Drummer."

His fingernails drummed the desk. Suddenly conscious of what he was doing, he stopped and brought his hands close and inspected them for damage.

"Drummer, draft a personal message from me to Camari, complaining about the manner in which his Ambassador conducted himself on Planet Pluto. Accuse the Ambassador of murdering several of our citizens and stealing our property to escape our judicial process. Tell Camari his message to me, if he really sent one, was not delivered. That'll throw the ball back to him. As far as I'm concerned, the matter is closed. I have far more important matters to discuss with you and Brad."

He waved his hand at Scarf.

"Get on about your business."

As Scarf closed the door behind him, Narval shifted his bulk. Placing both hands flat on the desk he studied each ring. He glanced momentarily at Drummer and fixed his eyes on Brad.

"I am not a fool," he hissed as his features contorted into waves of quivering fat.

"That UIPS envoy had motives for coming to Planet Pluto far beyond delivering a message to me and getting a formal response. His timing was to be here when Camari broadcast his appeal for his convocation with INOR Heads of State. He was here to assess my reaction." Looking from one to the other, he demanded, "Did you hear Camari's speech?"

"Yes," from Drummer.

Brad nodded.

"Well, as my diplomatic affairs advisor, Drummer, what did you make of it?"

"My feeling is that Camari is willing to meet us halfway to resolve differences between the Regions."

"You do, eh? What about you, Brad?"

"I'm neither a politician nor a diplomat, Mr. President. I can't see behind the words. Taken literally, I suppose, he wants a grand party to talk things out. That might be fine, providing it ties in with your plans."

"Aha," Narval said, with a gentle slap at the desk's top.

"You've hit it a lot closer than Drummer. The question of the moment is how might this so-called peace conference affect achieving my ultimate objective?"

"I have not been made privy to your 'ultimate objective', Mr. President," Brad said. "I cannot speak to that point."

Drummer looked straight at Narval, silent.

"My question, Drummer," Narval demanded, his tone impatient.

"You shared your objectives with me in confidence, Mr. President. I am not at liberty to speak on them in the presence of others without your permission."

Narval stared long and hard at Drummer and back to Brad.

"Not yet," he said. "Meanwhile, and especially in the light of the forthcoming convocation, I want you, Brad, to accelerate preparing our military fleet to take possession of the depot and that gaggle of transport and other vessels that constantly hover about. They will be the main bargaining chip when I give my ultimatum to Camari."

Brad nodded, his features closed.

Drummer looked dubious. He said, "That means we must have the depot under our control when you speak to President Camari."

"Sound conclusion," Narval replied caustically. "Now, Drummer, is the time for you, my chief diplomat, to engage in a bit of manipulation and encouragement among our allies — in my name and behalf, of course.

"We'll do this one step at a time. Prepare personal messages from me to the heads of INOR governments. Remind them of our past agreements to stand together to resist incursions by the UIPS. Point out that Camari's invitation presents us with an excellent opportunity to exert our combined will on this issue. Then, state my intention to take temporary control of the Slingshot Logistics Depot to add weight to our persuasions. Are my instructions clear?"

"They are, Mr. President."

"Good. Emphasize the need for us to act in concert to bring peace and prosperity to the Outer Region. Lay it on thick about how we can demonstrate our unity of purpose to Camari, and harmony among ourselves if we join forces. This shouldn't be a surprise to them; it was the purpose of the planning at the Neptune meeting. Wasn't it, Brad?"

"It was."

"Here, then, is my first objective, Drummer. I want the INOR warships that were committed at the Neptune meeting to be alongside ours to take over the Depot. The Depot must be ours before the conference gets under way. That is vital to our purpose. In the message, say that now is the time to strike. Insist that they send their ships as quickly as possible to join in the operation. Also, and be shrewd in presenting this: INOR ship commanders are to be subordinate to and carry out the orders of the Plutonian Fleet Commander for the duration of this operation. Clear?"

"Clear, Mr. President."

Chapter THIRTY-THREE

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