Spinneret

Chapter 15

Meredith had guessed the political ripples of the M'zarch attack would take a month to return to Astra; but in fact the ships started arriving barely ten days after the incident. Three warships from the Orspham Empire were first, hulking monstrosities that completely dwarfed the Rooshrike corvets which escorted them in from the border. The Whissst arrived a few days later, their ships much smaller and reminding Meredith of nothing so much as large, steel-plated pretzels. The Ctencri sent no warships, but the flying warehouse they brought was a gadgeteer's delight, judging by the catalogue they transmitted groundside. As each race arrived Meredith did his best to send properly courteous greetings, and to gratefully acknowledge their offers of assistance and defense without actually accepting any of them.

"I feel like an Exxon heir at a gold diggers' convention," he grumbled to Major Barner one afternoon in the latter's Crosse office. He seemed to be spending a lot of time in people's offices lately; the thought of all the radio monitors overhead had made him increasingly leery of the phone for anything but the most innocuous conversations. "You can practically hear dollar signs dropping every time one of them calls down."

"Except with the Orspham," Barner noted. "They seem more interested in finding a M'zarch ship to shoot up. Have you figured out yet what you're going to do about all of them?"

Meredith grimaced. "Not yet. It's obvious we're going to need some protection, if only to keep the M'zarch from taking another crack at us. The only problem is making sure the guards we pick don't decide at some point that robbery would pay better." He shook his head. "Never mind that for now. We can afford to string them along for a while longer. Did you really want me here to discuss the harvesting, or is this more from Hafner's people?"

"The latter." Barner unfolded a map and indicated the new areas of crosshatching.

"They've eliminated three more hills and most of the ridge that overhangs that end of the Dead Sea."

"Um. Still using that sonic echoing gadget Brown's people cobbled together?"

"And hoping slabs of cable material don't play games with sound waves as well as electric fields, yes. So far nothing that looks like a cavity has shown up."

"Have they talked to Dr. Chang's team about that? I don't know if they've done any sonic studies on the cable, but they should be able to rig up something."

"Probably could." Barner hesitated. "I don't really think Hafner's people want Chang in on this, though."

"The hell with what they want," Meredith growled. "We've got a set of experts here and we're going to use them. What does Hafner think this is, some new version of keep-away?"

"I don't think Dr. Hafner cares that much, himself. But some of his people—well, resent the way Chang just came in and took over up at the cable site."

For an instant Meredith remembered how Captain Witzany had reacted to that same event. "This whole place better start remembering that Astra is a territory of the United States, not some free and independent country. You'll send a messenger to Chang this afternoon to ask about the cable's sonic characteristics."

He caught the objection in Barner's eyes and mentally backed up a step. "You don't have to tell him why we want the information, though."

"That'll help." Bamer pushed the map to one side, replacing it with a sheaf of photo enlargements. "Dr. Hafner also took an extensive set of photos of the area and suggested we try shape analysis on the hills. I think it might be worth a try."

"Yeah." Meredith picked up the top photo, glanced at the one beneath it.

"Unfortunately, it would mean putting all this on the computer, and I'm still not sure I want to risk that."

Barner shrugged. "I'll admit my knowledge of computers is limited, but it seems to me that if you tore out the entire remote-access system the thing should be secure enough. No one's going to eavesdrop on buried fiberop cables from thirty thousand kilometers, and the machine itself should be adequately shielded."

" 'Should be' is about as far as I get, too. Given our truly abysmal ignorance of the local state of the art in such things, it's not very reassuring." The colonel dropped the photo back onto the stack. "You might as well put all these into your boobyproofed file. I'm going to have to get back to Unie—some son of silly resolution Carmen Olivero told me the council was taking up this afternoon. Keep me informed on Hafner's progress."

"Yes, sir."

Heading back outside, Meredith paused beside his car and peered for a moment toward the south. Two harvesters were visible in the fields, working to bring in the meager crop. Nearly thirty percent of the plants had died under the shock of having their trace metals twice yanked out of their soil. / hope the Celeritas is bringing plenty of extra food, he thought, climbing behind the wheel and starting the car. And lots of spare fuel, too.

The last speech—Perez's, as usual—was already in progress when Meredith finally showed up, choosing a chair by the door instead of joining the others at the table. Carmen shot a brief look of annoyance his direction and then returned her attention to Perez and the other faces around the table. The outcome, unfortunately, was no longer really in doubt. From previous speeches and the accompanying applause, it was clear that at least six of the ten councillors were strongly in favor of Perez's resolution, and of the four remaining only two were definitely against. She'd hoped to at least get a tie situation, where she would have the deciding vote, but it was obviously not going to happen.

Perez sat down, and Carmen waited for the applause to ran its course. "Further comments?" she asked. "Then we'll proceed directly to a vote. All in favor … ?"

The tally was a solid seven to three. Suppressing a grimace, Carmen turned to Meredith. "Colonel, the Council of Astra calls on you to issue an order barring all but Astran citizens from approach or examination of Mt. Olympus, the cable lying north of Wright, and all alien technology and artifacts that may be subsequently uncovered. Specifically, this order is to include both those members of Dr.

Chang's group already on Astra and the various alien representatives currently in this solar system."

"Request denied," Meredith said briskly. "Any other business you want me here for?"

A ripple of displeasure went around the table, and Carmen braced herself for the inevitable outburst. But Perez kept his poise.

"I'm afraid you don't understand, Colonel," he said calmly. "This is one resolution you're not going to simply sweep away into a corner somewhere. We've done our homework on this one: I have petitions signed by seventy-two percent of the inhabitants of Ceres that support this resolution, and other councillors have similar proofs of support from their districts. The Spinneret belongs to Astra, Colonel, and neither you nor the faceless bureaucrats in Washington are going to take it away from us."

Meredith regarded him coolly. "You have a remarkably poor memory for certain facts of life, Perez, such as those dealing with your citizenship and my authority here. I'm at perfect liberty to ignore anything you or your seventy-two percent have to say—and if you get rude about it I can toss the lot of you into detention."

Perez didn't bat an eye. "It wouldn't be nearly as neat and tidy as you make it sound. If you don't throw Chang's group out immediately, I can guarantee there will be rioting—and this time I won't be trying to hold anyone back."

Meredith didn't move or change expression, but suddenly Carmen had the uncomfortable feeling that perhaps Perez had pushed the colonel a shade too far.

"In such a case, Mr. Perez," Meredith said, his voice deadly, "neither would I."

"Of course," Perez said. "And you would win … but only temporarily. Because signs of civil strife down here could very possibly persuade one or more of the aliens out there that we needed some strong, neutral hand on us—strictly for our own good, of course—and take the appropriate action."

The room was very quiet. Meredith never flinched or broke eye contact with Perez, but Carmen sensed his frosty silence was a simple lack of any answer to that. After a few seconds Perez pulled a thick folder from the stack of papers in front of him and added to it a copy of the Council's resolution. Standing, he stepped over to Meredith and offered him the bundle. "I think you'll find, Colonel," he said, "that above all else we must present a united front if we're going to survive here."

Tight-lipped, Meredith got to his feet and accepted the papers. "We'll see," he said shortly. With a single glance at Carmen he turned and left the room.

Carmen licked her lips. "This meeting is adjourned," she said, banging her makeshift gavel with rather more force than necessary and immediately turning her full attention to loading her briefcase. The others took the hint and began packing their own paraphernalia without protest and with a minimum of quiet conversation. She waited until the last sounds of footsteps were cut off by the closing door before permitting her chosen expletive to come out.

"Agreed. And I apologize."

She looked up, startled, to find Perez sitting quietly in the chair Meredith had recently vacated. "I thought you'd slithered out with the others," she snarled.

He shrugged. "I wanted to make sure you were all right. And that you understood why I'm doing what I am."

"I'm fine," she bit out, getting to her feet. "And you don't need to explain the finer points of blackmail technique to me, thank you."

She tried to step past him, but he rose and took her arm, and before she knew it he had steered her back to the table and seated her again. "You're angry because you don't agree with my methods," he said, sitting down next to her. "But I'm afraid it's a simple fact of history that the only way a ruling class is ever persuaded to share power is through violence—either actual or threatened."

"So why don't you just go ahead and ally yourself with one of those aliens out there and do the job right?" she said bitterly.

He sighed. "I'd hoped you would grow to understand what I stand for better than that. Don't you see?—I'm not trying to exchange one inequity for another. Astra can be this century's version of the Americas, a place where people can come to escape the foolish rigidity of Earth politics. But that can't happen as long as we're simply a transplanted chunk of the U.S."

"And what are you going to feed all these tired, huddling masses when they get here?" she shot back. "We can't even grow enough to feed the ten thousand people we've got."

"We can feed them anything they want—up to and including imported caviar. Or haven't you considered what our Spinneret cables might sell for?"

She shook her head. "Your ideas of marketing show the same shallow thinking your politics do. If the cable turns out to be really useful it's not going to be ours much longer, not with all those warships circling overhead."

"We can handle them," he assured her. "Playing big powers off against each other is a skill the Third World is well acquainted with."

She laughed, a short, derisive bark. "Oh, terrific. You scramble to get us free of American politics and instead turn us into a transplanted Yugoslavia spending all of our energy juggling the local superpowers. What a great improvement."

She had the satisfaction of seeing him struggle to fight down his own anger. "The position the Spinneret has put us in isn't my fault, Carmen. I don't like it better than you do, but sitting around wishing things were different won't change anything." He paused. "I'm sorry, though, that you can't slough off that middleclass upbringing long enough to see things from the point of view of the less fortunate. I see I've been wasting my time with you."

So all of it had been deliberate. She'd wondered about that, ever since his message to Meredith through her had started this whole Council mess. "You flatter yourself," she said, again getting to her feet. "It's you and your methods, not any sort of upbringing, that's soured me on your planned Utopia."

"Carmen—"

She shrugged off his hand. "And as long as you've got all the answers, consider what all your huddling masses are going to do for a living once they get here. Or are you just going to distribute the Spinneret income evenly and let people sit around all day like overgrown parasites? If that's your idea of a satisfying existence, you're more foolish than I thought." With that she turned and strode out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

She was outside the building and halfway back to the admin complex before her anger cleared enough for her to think straight again. She slowed down, looking at the dull adobe buildings around her as she walked. After living in modem military bases, Astra had always seemed almost like a throw-back to the 1800s to her …

but never until now had she noticed its complete vulnerability, both to external and internal attack. What, she thought miserably, am I going to do?

On one level the question was trivial; on another, impossible. She would certainly go and see Colonel Meredith immediately, offering whatever assistance she could to block Perez's power grab. How that end could be accomplished, though, was another matter entirely.

The quiet burp of a distant sonic boom penetrated her thoughts, and she looked westward in time to see a shuttle drop toward Martello Base. An alien delegation?

It could be nothing else; it would still be a couple of weeks before any kind of reaction to the M'zarch attack could arrive from Earth. Quickening her step, Carmen changed direction to head for Unie's docks. The colonel would almost certainly have gone to the base to greet the visitors, and she saw no particular point in sitting around his office until he came back. Besides, which—it suddenly occurred to her—as moderator of the Council her visible support of Meredith in any discussions might help short-circuit Perez's scheme to promote disunity.

The armed guard waiting at the docks was a surprising but welcome addition to the scenery; apparently, Meredith was taking Perez's threats seriously. Carmen half expected to be denied access to the boats, but her military ID proved acceptable, and soon she was guiding a roaring motorboat up Splayfoot Bay toward Martello.

There were ten of them in all, and the names on their identification papers were as prestigious as any on the UNESCO listing. They sat quietly, for the most part, some of them gazing out the window at the Martello landing area or the hills of the mainland to the east.

The four UN officials accompanying them had equally prominent names, but not anything like the scientists' patience as Meredith went through their credentials one by one. Possibly, he thought, they felt insulted that he'd chosen to meet them in Major Brown's office instead of ferrying them to Unie and his own. Perhaps he should have; the trip would've given him that much more time to think.

Finally, he could stall no longer. "I must say, first of all, that Astra is honored by your presence," he said to the scientists as he returned their papers. "Under other circumstances you would be most welcome … but I'm very much afraid you may have made this trip for nothing."

"Would you care to explain. Colonel?" Ashur Msuya said, his voice cold.

Meredith had never before met the man, but his virulent anti-West oratory had for years been one of the main rallying points for what little unity the African Bloc was ever able to muster. He'd been merely the head of the Mozambique delegation when Meredith had left for Astra, but his credentials were now identifying him as Assistant Undersecretary for Trusteeship and Non-Self-Governing Territories—a change in position Meredith found more than a little suspicious.

"It's actually rather simple, Mr. Msuya," the colonel said, turning slightly to face the other. "I've been given command of Astra—all of Astra—by the United States government, and there's no legal way I can relinquish that authority to you or anyone else without direct orders from my superiors or from President Allerton."

Msuya smiled thinly. "Yes, I rather expected you to quote regulations of one sort or another. However, Astra is United Nations territory, and we don't need the Pentagon's permission to withdraw the mandate your government has given. If you insist on being legalistic, I can also argue that the Spinneret and its cable are alien devices not really part of Astra at all, and that your mandate does not include them. Either way, we wind up in control of the Spinneret."

"Mr. Msuya, again I say that without orders I can't simply take your word for that—and all these papers still boil down to being your word. Now, if our regular supply ship brings me such orders, that'll be a different matter. But until that happens … "He shook his head.

One of the scientists cleared his throat. "Suppose your ship doesn't say anything one way or the other?"

"Then I'll send a message back with her captain describing your mission and requesting instructions. The round trip would take about six weeks, I'm afraid."

"Our ship could bring you a response in eight days," Msuya pointed out. "It's an advanced craft—one of two the Ctencri have given the UN."

"Interesting. How much is Saleh paying for them?"

"They were free gifts."

Sure they were, Meredith thought. "Of course," he said aloud. "But I'd prefer using American ships for any such messages."

Msuya leaned back in his seat and regarded Meredith coolly. "In other words, you choose to stall. All right, have it your way. I trust you'll at least be willing to find accommodations for the scientific team down here while they work on the cable. I and my delegation can stay aboard our ship if you'd prefer."

And here was where the organic fertilizer was going to hit the fan, Meredith thought with a sinking feeling. He had no intention of letting a group of foreign nationals get at the Spinneret cable, UN instructions or no. "I would be honored to host these distinguished ladies and gentlemen," he said, "but as for examining the cable, I'm afraid that won't be possible."

"Colonel Meredith." With deliberate movements Msuya rose from his chair and stepped up to the edge of the desk. "It's clear you don't care that your career is being endangered by your uncooperative attitude; I presume mat if I had an armed force of troops available you would be equally contemptuous of your life. But I tell you right now: you are now endangering your entire country. We know you have U.S. scientists here studying the cable; failure to grant equal access to us will raise serious questions as to American intentions. It could easily lead to an immediate embargo of all alien goods and technologies to both you and the U.S.—and I assure you that the embargo will be an airtight one."

He paused for breath, and Meredith moved into the gap. "I understand your concerns," he said, "but I can assure you we have no intention of withholding information on the cable from anyone." He shifted slightly in his chair, wondering what he was going to say next; and as he did so the paper in his coat pocket crinkled. A gift from heaven, and he grabbed it with both hands. "But I think you've jumped to a false conclusion. It's not a matter of American versus UN

scientists; the fact is that all non-Astrans are going to be barred from the cable, at least for now." Pulling out the copy of the Council resolution Perez had given him, he handed it over.

Msuya scanned it, his frown heavy with suspicion. "What is this Council fabrication? Astra's supposed to be under military rule."

"Americans are very democratically inclined people," Meredith shrugged. "The Council was set up shortly after our arrival to act in an advisory capacity."

"Then this resolution has no legal force behind it." Msuya tossed the paper back onto the desk.

"It has the force of public opinion," Meredith told him. "In America we consider that important."

One of the scientists cleared her throat. "You say all non-Astrans have been ordered away from the cable. Colonel?"

Meredith saw the trap. "I was about to issue the orders to Dr. Chang's team when I was notified your delegation was arriving. The Council's resolution was passed less than an hour ago."

"Perhaps we should give you a few minutes now to do that, then," she replied.

There wasn't really any way out of it. Raising his phone, he keyed for Andrews, waiting outside in Brown's outer office. "Lieutenant, I want you to go up to the cable site and have Dr. Chang's people brought back here. Pull copies of all their data, too. Then get in touch with Captain Witzany and put him back in charge of all cable testing."

One of Andrews's best qualities was his ability to accept even strange orders without question. "Yes, sir. I presume die scientists are to come whether they want to or not?"

"Correct. If they have any complaints, tell them it'll all be explained when they get here."

"Yes, sir. Uh, Miss Olivero is here, Colonel, and seems anxious to see you."

Chair of the Council … It was a chance, Meredith realized, to add credibility to his position. Provided Carmen was smart enough to pick up on what he was doing.

"Please ask her to come in," he told Andrews.

The door opened, and Carmen stepped inside, her face set in a decidedly neutral expression. Meredith wished fleetingly he knew how much, if anything, Andrews had told her about their guests. "Carmen Olivero, current chair of the Council of Astra," the colonel introduced her, rising to his feet. "This is Mr. Msuya of the UN

Secretariat; I've just had to inform him of the Council's decision to forbid non- Astrans from direct access to the Spinneret cable."

For a long moment he thought she was going to bring down the whole house of cards. Her eyes, which had been sweeping the group, cut abruptly back to him, widening in surprise. But only for a moment. "I see," she said. "Well. I'm glad you decided not to bother appealing the resolution; with a seven-to-three margin it would've been useless, anyway." She focused on Msuya. "Were you expecting to take over the cable studies, sir?"

"The cable is UN property," he told her coldly. Turning back to Meredith, he added, "I don't know what you expect to gain by this charade, Colonel, but rest assured that no one in this room is in the slightest taken in. You're going to bring in the American scientists, make a big show of taking them off the project—and the minute we're gone they'll be back at work."

"I'm sorry you think me so underhanded," Meredith said, matching the other's tone. It was time he showed some irritation at all this verbal abuse. "You and Dr.

Chang can compare notes on my character on the trip back to Earth; I'm sure he'll have one or two things to add by then."

Msuya blinked, and for the first time a hint of uncertainty showed through his animosity. "What do you mean?"

"Well, we certainly can't afford to feed any extra people here," Meredith said calmly. "I just assumed you wouldn't mind giving them a lift home. It is only a four-day trip, you said?"

Msuya took a deep breath, turned back to gaze at Carmen, still standing just inside the door. "So your civilian Council presumes to dictate to an authorized military commander, does it? What do you think the U.S. Congress is going to say when it hears about this? Or the Pentagon? I expect they would appoint a new commander rather quickly."

Meredith held his breath … but Carmen had clearly figured out what was going on. "I don't see that the Pentagon or anyone else has any cause to complain. Your average military base isn't ninety percent civilian, either, and I can vouch for the fact that the Council has made the colony run smoother." She fixed Msuya with a steely glaze. "As I recall, that is what the UN mandate called for to establish and maintain a viable settlement on the world Astra; to choose, equip, and train such personnel as may be deemed necessary and sufficient—"

She rattled off the whole General Purpose section from memory, and when she was finished, even Msuya looked grudgingly impressed. "I see you at least put someone with legal experience in charge of your Council," he said, turning back to face Meredith. "But you're digging yourself into a hole where you will literally starve to death. You can throw us off Astra now, yes, but how long will you survive when the UN cuts off all food and supply shipments to you? How long could you hold out if the Security Council voted to send a military force to deal with your blatant disobedience?"

Meredith couldn't help it; he laughed out loud. "A military force! Have you seen the collection of warships riding around us out there? Damn thing looks like a three-dimensional traffic jam—and every one of them ready to jump at the slightest suggestion that we're being invaded. I suggest you bear that in mind when you start talking about military action."

For a moment the two men stood there, gazes locked. Meredith waited long enough for the tension in the room to get good and thick. Then, dropping his eyes to Brown's computer console, he keyed for a status report. "Your shuttle has been refueled and will be ready to lift in about an hour. Before you leave, I'll ask Major Brown to give you a tour of the Martello Base facilities."

"This is outrageous!" one of the scientists snorted. "Mr. Msuya—are you going to let him just throw us out?"

Msuya's eyes were still boring into Meredith's face. "For the moment, Doctor, there is little else I can do. But that condition is temporary. Very temporary."

Meredith phoned for Brown and endured the minute of stony silence it took the major to arrive. He half expected Msuya to hurl some final threat as Brown led them out, but the undersecretary passed up the chance for last-minute dramatics.

Carmen started to follow the group; Meredith signaled her to remain. The door closed and she let out a long, sighing breath. "You shouldn't have laughed at him, Colonel," she said.

Suddenly weary, Meredith sat down again behind the desk. "I know, but that particular threat was so ridiculous. Not that it matters, really—Msuya couldn't possibly get madder than he already is." He shook his head. "What did you want to see me about? Andrews seemed to think it was important."

She smiled lopsidedly. "Actually, I came here to offer whatever help I could to head off Perez's power play. I see I was a little late."

"Not at all—both your timing and assessment of the situation were perfect."

"I meant—never mind."

"You meant you missed the episode where I switched sides?"

She flushed. "Well … yes. I was a little … surprised by that."

"Yeah. My own fault, too—I should've expected the UN to try a direct takeover and been better prepared. They moved a lot faster than I thought they could."

There was a moment of silence. "What happens now?" Carmen asked. "Are you really sending Dr. Chang home?"

"I have no choice. You saw Msuya's expression—he's just itching for a chance to come down like a Marine battalion on either Astra or the U.S. Throwing everyone off Astra like this should get the U.S. off the immediate hook, though there'll now be pressure on the President to replace me. I hope he understands what I'm doing and can stall them."

"What if he can't? I have to tell you, Colonel, that legally you're on very soft ground. Council or no, you're still the one who's ultimately responsible for everything that happens on Astra … and the UN would be well within their rights to cut off our supplies."

"All right," Meredith said abruptly. "As the saying goes, two can play this game."

He keyed his phone for the base communications center. "Put a call through to the nearest Rooshrike ship," he instructed the officer on duty. "Tell them I'd like a talk with Beaeki nul Dies na at his convenience." He got an acknowledgment and looked back at Carmen. "Is there anyone in your department who's ever handled trade negotiations?"

Frowning, Carmen leaned across the desk and started tapping computer keys. "I think Ruth Eldridge might have … No, that was a labor dispute." She pressed more keys, but the screen remained blank. "Nothing like that in anyone's file, sir," she said.

"Damn. Well … how about you? You want to help me open up trade with the Rooshrike?"

She looked up at him, jaw dropping open. "Me? Why?"

"Why not? Common sense and a fast mind are at least as important as experience in something like this. Besides, as head of the Council you'll lend an air of legitimacy that may keep Perez's crowd off my neck."

"But—Colonel, don't you think you're giving me just a little too much extracurricular work?"

He smiled in spite of himself. "Oddly put, but you have a point. All right; as of right now you're relieved of all your normal duties. I'll get you a priority number for materials and personnel by tonight or tomorrow morning, but try to use it sparingly."

"I understand." She sighed. "Oh, all right; I'll do it. What exactly do you want from the Rooshrike?"

"Ultimately, our own private channel to both U.S. and alien markets, one the UN

can't shut off. Priorities right now are foodstuffs, heavy equipment—well, it's the same list that's on the computer. All the stuff we lost to the Spinneret's leecher."

"How about weapons?"

"None." His lip twitched at her expression. "Yes, I know I'm a military man and that we've already been attacked once. But our best chance of survival right now is to look and act as harmless as possible. Remember, the warships upstairs know even less about the Spinneret than we do—and they don't know we aren't in actual control of the thing. I've already had to deflect two or three veiled questions about the 'weapon' we used against the M'zarch landers, at least one of which concerned the thing's range. The minute we start looking militant I think they'd come to a pretty quick agreement on joint action."

"I suppose so," she agreed reluctantly. "I just don't like feeling so vulnerable."

"Neither do I, but for now it can't be helped."

She shrugged, as if dismissing the matter. "All right. Now, how are we proposing to pay the Rooshrike for whatever they get us?"

Meredith took a deep breath. He hated to do this, but could see no alternative.

"We'll pay them—and any other race with which we do business—in lengths of Spinneret cable. The value per meter will be assessed later, once we've completed our tests on its material properties."

Carmen's dark eyes held his. "You're going to let the aliens buy the cable, just like that? Suppose one of them figures out what it's made of or how the glue works or something?"

"I don't think that's likely to be a problem," he returned dryly. "And even if they do, I doubt it'll hurt our profits any. If Dr. Hafner's right, the Spinners' factory could be the size of a small city, and I can't see the Rooshrike or Ctencri throwing one together overnight." He paused, but she still looked troubled. "You disagree?" he prompted.

"What about Earth? Are you going to give the UN or U.S. some cables free, or make them pay for it like everyone else?"

Meredith shook his head. "I don't know yet how we're going to handle them. My first inclination is to pay off the costs of the colony and then treat Earth as just another customer … but since the U.S.'ll get the lion's share of cable that way, it's bound to cause a major stink at the UN. And this damn six-week communications lag doesn't help any—we could spark off a war and never even know about it until it was all over." He scowled toward the computer screen. "Let's add a couple of those fast courier ships to the Christmas list you're making. If the UN can get advanced drives, we ought to be able to, too."

"Yes, sir." She hesitated. "Colonel … before I came here I was talking to Cris Perez. He's also starting to talk about selling Spinneret cable."

"Oh? I would've thought tawdry mercantile matters beneath him."

She flushed. "He's less interested in profits than he is in making Astra an escape hatch for Earth's poor. He sees the Spinneret as the cornucopia that'll make that possible."

"He would," Meredith grumbled. "Perez is a grade-ten idealist."

"Perhaps," she said noncommittally. "But you're now talking about a similar course of action … and either way I'm worried about what we'll do here with a sudden influx of wealth. I'd hate to see all of us sit back and loaf while the Spinneret pays the bills for us."

Meredith nibbed his chin. "I doubt that it'll come to that extreme. The cable may be strong as hell, but what can you really do with something shaped like cosmic spaghetti?"

"I don't know. But the Spinners apparently did."

"Yeah." For a moment Meredith stared past Carmen. An entire planet-worth of metal … quintillions of tons of it … all made into six-centimeter cable? Why!

"You'd better go back to your office and get busy with your preparations," he said, instinctively pulling back from what could only be futile speculation. "I'd like to get Beaeki's people down here tomorrow morning for a preliminary meeting."

She nodded and stood up. "I can be ready."

"Good. I'll let you know the time after I talk with the Rooshrike."

He glared at the desktop for a minute after she'd gone. So he and Perez were both thinking along the same lines for once, were they? An annoying thought, in some ways; but if handled properly it might enable him to take some of the wind out of the Hispanic's rhetoric. Even a brief respite would be helpful; between Perez, the UN, and the collection of alien ships overhead, Meredith was facing too many opponents as it was.

Hitching his chair closer to the terminal, the colonel keyed for the job file and began to type: SEARCH ALL AVAILABLE ALIEN LITERATURE FOR HISTORICAL

RECORDS, LEGENDS, OR MYTHS RELATING TO OTHER RACES, GODLIKE BEINGS, ETC. EMPHASIS ON ROOSHRIKE AND POM

TERRITORIES. FULL ANALYSIS REQUESTED, INCLUDING

CORRELATIONS AND COMPOSITES WHERE POSSIBLE.

Know thy enemy, the ancient dictum went … and if the Spinners had left any other trace of their passage behind, Meredith wanted to know about it.