Chapter TWENTY-EIGHT
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."