The Android's Dream

Chapter 2

Secretary of state Jim Heffer regarded the tube on his desk. "So this is it?" he asked his aide, Ben Javna.

"That's it," Javna said. "Fresh from the schmuck's large intestine."

Heffer shook his head. "What an asshole," he said.

"An apt description, considering," Javna said.

Heffer sighed, reached for the tube, then stopped. "This isn't fresh, is it?"

Jayna grinned. "It's been sanitized for your protection, Mr. Secretary. It had been grafted onto Moeller's colon. All the organic bits have been removed. Inside and out."

"Who knows this exists?"

"Aside from whoever helped Moeller put it in? You, me, and the medical examiner. The ME is content to keep quiet for now, although he wants State to bring a cousin over from Pakistan.

Alan suspects something, of course. That's why he called me right after it happened."

"A former intern turns out to be useful for a change," Heffer said. He picked up the tube, turned it around in his hands. "Have we figured out where this thing has come from yet?"

"No, sir," Javna said. "We haven't started a search because, officially, it doesn't exist. So far as anyone knows officially, Moeller and the Nidu trade representative rather coincidentally collapsed simultaneously for unrelated health reasons. Which is true, as far as it goes."

It was Heffer's turn to grin. "And just how long do we expect that story to hold up, Ben?"

"It's already collapsing, of course," Javna said. "But at this point the only thing anyone has to go on are rumors and speculations. We start searching for plans for that,"—Javna pointed to the tube—"and you know it's going to get noticed."

"I think we could keep the search out of the papers," Heffer said.

"It's not the papers we need to worry about," Javna said. "You know Pope and his creeps at Defense are going to be all over this, and they'll even find some way to try to make it seem like it's the Nidu's fault."

"On one level, that'd be nice," Heffer said.

"Sure, right until the part where we start shooting at the Nidu and then they kick our ass," Javna said.

"There is that," Heffer admitted.

"There is indeed that," Javna said.

Heffer's intercom switched on. "Mr. Secretary, Secretary Soram is here," said Heffer's scheduler, Jane.

"Send him in, Jane," Heffer said, stood up, then turned to Javna. "Well, here comes the idiot," he said. Javna grinned.

Secretary of Trade Ted Soram came through the door, brisk and grinning and extending his hand. "Hello, Jim," he said. "Missed you this weekend at the house."

Heffer reached across the desk and shook Sorarris hand. "Hello, Ted," Heffer said. "I was in Switzerland this weekend. Middle East peace negotiations. You may have read something about them."

"Ouch," Soram said, good-naturedly, and off to the side, Heffer could see Javna roll his eyes. "Okay, I admit, a good excuse for your absence. This time. How did the negotiations go?"

"As they usually do," Heffer said, motioning to Soram to sit. "Right down to obligatory suicide bomber in Haifa halfway through the session."

"They never learn," Soram said, nestling into an armchair. "I guess not," Heffer said, sitting himself. "But right now I'm less concerned about the peace negotiations in the Middle East than the Nidu trade negotiations here at home."

"What about them?" Soram said.

Heffer glanced over at Javna, who subtly shrugged. "Ted," Heffer said, "have you been in contact with your staff today?"

"I've been at Lansdowne since dawn," Soram said. "With the Kanh ambassador. It loves to golf there, and I have a membership. I've been trying to get them to agree to import more almonds. We've got a glut. So I thought I'd lobby it on the links. My staff knows better than to disturb me when I'm working on something like that. I almost chewed out your gal until I realized she was calling from your department, not mine."

Heffer sat there for about a beat and wondered again at the political calculus that required President Webster to appoint Soram as trade secretary. The Kanh were violently allergic to nuts. The first state dinner ever held for the Kanh ended in disaster because kitchen inadvertently used peanut oil in one of the entrees; two-thirds of the Kanh guests ruptured their digestive sacs. The feet that Soram would lobby the Kanh to import almonds was a testament to his cluelessness, and the willingness of the Kanh ambassador (who was emphatically not clueless) to capitalize on his stupidity for a couple rounds of choice golf.

Well, we needed Philadelphia and he delivered, Heffer thought. Too late to worry about it now. "Ted," Heffer said. "There's been a development. A rather serious one. One of your trade representatives died today during negotiations. So did one of the Nidu representatives. And we think our guy killed the Nidu representative before he died."

Soram smiled, uncertainly. "I'm not following you, Jim."

Heffer slid the tube across the desk to Soram. "He used this," Heffer said. "We're pretty sure it's a device used to send chemical signals the Nidu could smell and interpret through a code of theirs. We think your guy hid this until he got into the room, and then used it to enrage the Nidu negotiator into a stroke. He had a heart attack right after. He died laughing, Ted. It didn't look very good."

Soram took the tube. "Where was he hiding it?" he asked.

"In his ass," Ben Javna said.

Soram jerked and dropped the thing on the floor, then smiled sheepishly and placed it back on the desk. "Sorry," he said. "How do you know all this, Jim? This is a trade problem."

Heffer took the tube and put it into his desk. "Ted, when one of your guys kills off a Nidu diplomat, trade or otherwise, it pretty much becomes my problem, now, doesn't it? We here at State have a vested interest in making sure that trade negotiations with the Nidu run smoothly. And I know you're not exactly the most 'hands off of Trade secretaries. So we over here have been keeping tabs on how things have been going."

"I see," Soram said.

"Having said that," Heffer said, "I have to admit this one took us by surprise. Trade is fairly packed with anti-Nidu negotiators and has been for years, even after this administration took over. But this is new. We expected some of your minor functionaries to put in a few roadblocks. We were ready for that. We weren't ready for one of your people to attempt murder to gum up the works."

"We got rid of the biggest troublemakers," Soram said. "We went right down the list and pried them out."

"You missed one, Ted," Heffer said.

"Who was this guy?" Soram asked.

"Dirk Moeller," Javna said. "Came in during the Griffin administration. He was at the American Institute for Colonization before that."

"I've never heard of him," Soram said.

"Really," Javna said, dryly.

Even Soram couldn't miss that. "Look, don't try to pin this on me," he said. "We got most of them. But a few are going to get through the net."

"A spell at the AIC should have been a red flag," Heffer said. "That place is full of anti-Nidu nutbags."

The intercom flicked back on. "Sir, Secretary Pope is here," Jane said.

"Speaking of anti-Nidu nutbags," Javna said, under his breath.

"He says it's urgent," Jane continued.

"Send him in, Jane," Heffer said, then turned to Javna. "Behave, Ben."

"Yes, sir," Javna said.

Every administration crosses the aisle to appoint one secretary from the other side. Robert Pope, war hero and popular former senator from Idaho, was the sop thrown to swing voters who needed convincing the Webster administration was strong on defense, and would stand up to Common Confederation pressure when necessary, particularly when it was applied by the Nidu. Pope played the part a little too enthusiastically for Heifer's taste.

"Bob," Heffer said, as Pope entered the room, trailing his aide, Dave Phipps. "Dropping by on your way back to the Pentagon?"

"You might say that," Pope said, and then glanced over at Soram. "I see you've got the brain trust here already."

"Missed you this weekend, Bob," Soram said.

"Ted, you know I wouldn't be caught dead at one of your parties," Pope said, "so let's not pretend I would be. I understand you hit a little roadblock in today's negotiations."

"Jim was just catching me up on that," Soram said.

"Well," Pope said. "Nice to see someone's minding the shop over there at Trade. Even if it is the State Department. Strange that two chief negotiators should die within seconds of each other, don't you think."

"The universe is filled with disturbing coincidences, Bob," Heffer said.

"And you think coincidence is what this was."

"At the moment, that's the official line," Heffer said. "Although of course we'll let you know if anything comes out. We're hoping to catch this while it's still a minor diplomatic issue, Bob. Nothing you folks at Defense need to worry about."

"That's reassuring to hear, Jim," Pope said. "Except that it may already be a little late for that." Pope nodded to Phipps, who pulled papers from a folder he was bearing and handed them to Heffer.

"What are these?" Heffer asked, taking the papers and reaching for his glasses.

"Intercepts from the Nidu Naval Attache's office, dated thirty-six minutes after our respective trade representatives hit the floor," Pope said. "About two hours after that, we know two Nidu Glar-class destroyers got new orders."

"Do you know what the orders are?" Heffer asked.

"They were encrypted," Pope said.

"So they could be anything, including something entirely unrelated to our little problem," Heffer said.

"They could be," Pope said. "There is the minor matter that these new orders came directly from the Nidu Supreme Commander rather than through the admiralty."

"What does that mean?" Soram asked.

"It means that orders aren't going through the chain of command, Ted," Heffer said. "It means that whatever the Nidu have going, they want to start working on it fast." Heffer turned to Javna. "Are the Nidu having any other extracurricular squabbles that would warrant new orders to those destroyers?"

"I can't think of anything offhand," Javna said. "They have that low-grade border war going with the Andde, but they've been in a detente phase for a few months now. It's not likely they'd ratchet back up without the Andde doing something stupid first. Let me check on that, though."

"In the meantime, I have to work on the assumption that what happened today at Trade is a proximate cause," Pope said. "And that the Nidu may be in the initial stages of something more than a diplomatic response."

"Have you shared this with the president?" Heffer asked.

"He's in St. Louis, reading to kindergarteners," Pope said. "I spoke to Roger. He suggested that on the way back to the Pentagon, I stop by and give you a heads-up. He said this is something that warranted a personal social call."

Heffer nodded. Roger probably also suggested to Pope that he'd be following up with Heffer shortly thereafter, which was undoubtedly the only reason Pope was actually in his office. This is one of the nice things about having your brother-in-law as the president's chief of staff; if Roger let Heffer get sandbagged, he'd never hear the end of it from the missus. The Heffers were a loyal clan.

"Can I see those intercepts?" Soram asked.

"Later, Ted," Heffer said. "Bob, what are you planning to do with that information?"

"Well, that depends," Pope said. "I can't just do nothing, of course. If we have two Nidu destroyers on their way, we need to be prepared to respond."

"The Nidu are our allies, you know," Heffer said. "Have been for decades, despite attempts in recent years to have it otherwise."

"Jim, I don't give a shit about the politics of the situation," Pope said, and Heffer caught Javna performing another subtle eyeroll. "I care about where those destroyers are heading and why. If you know something I don't, then by all means enlighten me. But from where I'm standing, two dead trade representatives plus two Nidu destroyers equals the Nidu doing something I need to worry about."

Heffer's intercom piped up again. "Sir, the Nidu ambassador is here. He says it's—"

"—Urgent, yes, I know," Heffer said. "Tell him I'll be right with him." He nipped off the intercom, and stood up. "Gentlemen, I need the room. All things considered, you should probably exit out through the conference room. It might make the ambassador nervous if he saw the secretaries of Trade and Defense coming out the door."

"Jim," Pope said. "If you know something, I need to know it. Sooner than later."

"I understand, Bob. Give me a little time to work this. If the Nidu see us gearing up for something, it's going to complicate matters. A little time, Bob."

Pope glanced over at Soram, and then at Javna before looking back to Heffer. "A little time, Jim. But don't make me have to explain to the president why we've got two Nidu destroyers parked in orbit and nothing to counter them with. You won't like the explanation I'll give him. Gentlemen." Pope and Phipps exited out through the conference room.

Soram stood up. "What should I be doing now?" he asked. Soram was normally the picture of clueless confidence, but even he was aware he was in over his head at the moment

'Ted, I need to you to keep quiet on what I've told you today," Heffer said. Soram nodded. "The longer we keep this thing officially a coincidence, the longer we've got to make this turn out all right. I'm going to have some people come around and take a look through Moeller's office. Make sure no one touches anything until they get there. I mean no one, Ted. Ben here will make the arrangements and give you the names so you can be sure. Until then, stay calm, appear unconcerned, and don't overthink this."

"Just be yourself, Mr. Secretary," Javna said. Soram smiled wanly and let himself out.

"Just be yourself," Heffer said, to Javna. "Nice."

"Will all due respect, Mr. Secretary," Javna Said. "The last thing you want at this point is Soram trying to grow a brain. You've already got Pope to deal with."

"That son of a bitch Heffer," Pope said, settling into his limo. "He's got something he's not telling us."

Phipps was reading his mail on his communicator. "There's nothing new on the State Department comm bugs," he said. "There's the one call to Javna right after it happened, but it was from a wireless comm with standard encryption. We're still working on that. Then there's Heffer's office to Soram, telling him to get over to State. After that, nothing."

"Have we figured out where Javna went yet?" Pope asked.

"No," Phipps said. "His car's got a locator, but he took the Metro. He used anonymous credit, so we can't trace him through his card."

"You don't have anything from the security cameras?"

"Our Metro Police camera guy got fired a week ago." Pope looked up for this; Phipps put up his hand. "Not because of us. He was doing a little freelance fundraising for the Police Retirement Fund and sending the contributions to his own account. Until we cultivate someone else, we'd have to get a warrant."

"Where are those destroyers?" Pope asked.

"Still docked, one at Dreaden, one at Inspir," Phipps said. "Both are taking on supplies. It'll be two or three days at least before either is underway."

Pope tapped his armrest and glanced back toward the State Department. "Heffer's meeting with the Nidu ambassador right now."

"Yes, sir," Phipps said.

"So where did you put the bug?" Pope asked.

"You'll love this," Phipps said. He opened his folder and handed his boss a copy of one of the intercepts he gave to Heffer.

Pope looked at the paper, read it. "I know all this already, Phipps."

"The paper is the bug, sir," Phipps said. "It activates when it leaves the folder. The paper picks up sound vibrations through the air and conduction through the desk. It converts the sound into an electrical signal that's recorded in magnetic molecules in the ink. The data is stored multiple times, so it survives shredding. You just wave a data reader over the paper and the information uploads. All we need to do is read the data before it gets to the incinerator."

"And you've set that up," Pope said.

"The incinerator plant is maintained by Navy, sir. It's not a problem. The drawback is that the information isn't live. But State sends a truck to the incinerator every night. We'll know what they're talking about soon enough."

Pope considered the paper in his hand. "Pretty sneaky shit, Dave."

"Your tax dollars at work, sir," Phipps said.

"We have a problem," said Narf-win-Getag, Nidu ambassador to Earth, settling into the chair recently occupied by Ted Soram. As was custom, he did not shake hands upon entering the room. "We think one of your trade representatives intentionally killed one of our trade representatives."

Heffer glanced over to Javna, who was handing the Nidu ambassador a cup of tea; both were wearing their best "this is disturbing news" looks. "This is disturbing news," Heffer said. "We know about the deaths, of course. But we were under the impression that the deaths were coincidental and accidental."

"The other members of the trade delegation report that prior to his death, Lars-win-Getag was complaining that he was being insulted through the Devha, which is an ancient Nidu code, transmitted by scent. As you know, we Nidu are extraordinarily sensitive to certain smells. We have reason to believe your representative, this Dirk Moeller, was sending these signals," Narf-win-Getag said.

"With all due respect, Mr. Ambassador," Heffer said. "Our files show your representative had a history of smelling insults when they weren't there."

"You're suggesting that this was all in his mind, then," Narf-win-Getag said.

"Not at all," Heffer said. "Just that he may have misinterpreted something he smelled as meaning something else."

"Possibly," Narf-win-Getag said. "However, I've been instructed by my government to ask for a member of our medical delegation to examine the body of Mr. Moeller. It would clear up the issue of misinterpretation, at the very least."

From behind the ambassador, Heffer saw Javna give an almost imperceptible shake of his head. "I wish I could, Mr. Ambassador," Heffer said. "Unfortunately, Mr. Moeller's religious practices require a rapid funeral ceremony. I'm afraid the body's already been sent for cremation."

"Unfortunate, indeed," Narf-win-Getag said. "As this is the case, I've been instructed to halt trade negotiations until such time as all present agreements can be reviewed to ensure there have been no other attempts to unduly influence the outcome."

"Surely you don't think the actions of one negotiator—if indeed he acted at all—reflect on the government, and in particular this administration," Heffer said.

"As much as we'd like to assume that, I don't know that we can," Narf-win-Getag said. "We are of course well aware of the rise in anti-Nidu activity within the government over the years—the small obstructions and objections that add up over time. We had hoped that the Webster administration would root out much of this antipathy and set our two peoples back on the course to friendship. But something like this calls into question the sincerity of your administration's efforts. The last two administrations were not particularly friendly to my nation, Mr. Secretary, for reasons passing understanding. But at least they didn't fart one of my diplomats to death."

"I'm sure we can work together to resolve this issue, Mr. Ambassador," Heffer said.

"I hope so. Indeed, I have a suggestion which will go a long way toward healing this potential rift." Narf-win-Getag took a sip from his tea.

"By all means, name it," Heffer said.

"As you know, the Nidu are in a time of transition," Narf-win-Getag said. "Wej-auf-Getag, our Fehen, our leader, died some six of your weeks ago. His son, Hubu-auf-Getag, has been chosen as our next Fehen, and will formally take power in a coronation ceremony about two weeks from now."

"Yes, of course. I will be traveling to Nidu for the coronation celebration, as our government's representative," Heffer said.

"How delightful," Narf-win-Getag said. "As you may not know, when the auf-Getag clan first came to power, it included an element into the coronation ceremony to symbolize the Earth, our great friend and ally."

"I didn't know that," Heffer admitted. "What was the symbol?"

"A sheep, Mr. Secretary."

Heffer stifled a grin. "A sheep, you say."

"Indeed," Narf-win-Getag said. "At a critical point in the ceremony, a sheep is sacrificed. Usually the sheep is taken from the auf-Getag clan herd. However, within a week of the death of Wej-auf-Getag, the clan herd was wiped out by a genetically modified anthrax bacteria. Obviously, it was sabotage, most likely by rival clans."

"Well, we've got sheep," Heffer said. "Hell, in New Zealand the sheep outnumber the people five to one. Why didn't you let us know sooner?"

"It would not have been wise to let the enemies of the auf-Getag clan know we were concerned," Narf-win-Getag said. "We assumed we could easily restock our herd once negotiations were completed. By the original schedule, negotiations would have been completed in the next two or three days, and we could have taken delivery of the sheep with ample time for the ceremony. It was not a crisis situation, or so we thought. But of course, the events of this morning have complicated matters, not in the least because it was at the negotiations between Lars-win-Getag and Dirk Moeller that the sheep quotas would have been determined."

"It's not a problem," Heffer said. "You can have as many sheep as you need. With the compliments of the State Department."

"I'm afraid it's not that simple, Mr. Secretary," Narf-win-Getag said. He learned over and retrieved a display tablet from his briefcase, and placed it on Heffer's desk. "It can't be any sheep. It needs to be a sheep of a particular breed, and a particularly rare breed. In fact, it's a breed that was specially designed for the auf-Getag clan when it came to power; its distinguishing physical characteristic is the color of its wool."

Heffer reached over and took the tablet. It was a picture of a sheep, with electric blue wool.

"The breed is called Android's Dream," Narf-win-Getag said.

"Odd name," Heffer said, returning the tablet.

"It has some sort of literary significance," Narf-win-Getag said, reaching for the tablet, "although I'm not sure how. Be that as it may, the breed design patent was provided to the auf-Getag, in perpetuity, by the designers and the Earth government at the time. Naturally, the auf-Getag clan has been very selective regarding who may work with the breed. Only a very few breeding agreements were allowed, and those were restrictive enough as to make breeding the sheep something of a losing business. So there was not much interest to begin."

"You're saying that no one else breeds Android's Dream sheep," Heffer said.

"We know of one breeder, the original breeder," Narf-win-Getag said. "On the Brisbane colony. Even though we own the design patent, they were unable to sell their sheep to us directly because of colonial export laws. We planned to ask for an exemption during negotiations."

"We can grant that exemption right now," Heifer said.

"I am glad to hear it," Narf-win-Getag said. "But there is another complication to consider. Prior to my arrival here we learned the virus that hit us also hit the breeder on Brisbane. Their entire stock of Android's Dream sheep is dead or dying."

"You suspect that's not coincidence," Heffer said.

"Indeed not," Narf-win-Getag said. "Whoever spread the virus to Brisbane knows what we know. What we're hoping is that they might not know what you know. Despite our control of the breed, we do not doubt that somewhere along the way someone got past our limits on the breed. In fact, at this point, that's what we're hoping for."

"So what do you want us to do?" Heffer asked.

"We will provide you with the genetic information for sheep. We'd like you to find a breeder here on Earth who has one of the breed. A purebreed would be optimal, of course. But so long as there is a certain amount of genetic similarity, that will be acceptable. And we need you to find it within the week. And we'd prefer you do it quietly."

Heffer shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I'm all for the quiet part, it's the rest of that request that I'm worried about. You presume that we have the DNA of every sheep in the world somewhere in a government file," he said. "The government has a lot of information, but I don't think even we have that."

"We don't," Javna said. "But someone does."

Heffer and Narf-win-Getag both shifted their focus to Javna. "Keep going, please," Narf-win-Getag said.

"Insurance companies, Mr. Ambassador," Javna said. "Farmers and ranchers insure their livestock all the time, in case they get hit by a car or struck by lightning or get anthrax or whatever. Most insurers require the farmers put their animals' DNA on file, so the insurer can confirm the animal actually belonged to the farmer."

"So much for trust," Heffer said.

"Insurance isn't about trust, sir," Javna said. "Anyway, not every sheep in the world is going to have its DNA on file, but enough will that it gives us something to work on."

"If we can get the insurers to release their records to us," Heffer said. "And even then, a week isn't a lot of time."

Narf-win-Getag stood, took his briefcase; Heffer stood up in response. "Time is critical, Mr. Secretary. The coronation must go on according to schedule. You wanted something to improve relations and to make us forget how your negotiator derailed trade talks. This is it. I will have an assistant come by later in the day with the DNA information. Mr. Secretary, you have my faith that you can help resolve this crisis. It would be most unfortunate, for both our peoples, if you could not." Narf-win-Getag nodded to Heffer and Javna and departed.

Heffer plopped back into his chair. "Well, no pressure there," he said. "So how many sheep do you think there are on this planet?"

"I'm not up to date on my UNEDA estimates, but I'm guessing a couple of billion," Javna said. "But you only have to look through the ones that are insured. That'll narrow it down to just several hundred million. Piece of cake."

"Glad to see the spirit of optimism is alive and well," Heffer said.

"How do you want to do this, Mr. Secretary?" Javna asked.

"You mean, how do you want to do this, Ben," Heffer said. "I'm due back in Switzerland in another twelve hours. Then I'm off to Japan and Thailand. I'm a little busy to be counting sheep. You, on the other hand, can stay home and no one will miss you."

"Narf-win-Getag said that he wants this to be quiet," Javna said. "That's going to be difficult."

"How difficult?" Heffer asked.

"Very difficult. Not impossible, just difficult. We have to be creative about this." Javna was quiet for a moment. "How much latitude do I have for this, sir?"

"Are you kidding? Short of strangling babies, do what you need to do. Why? What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that the best way to handle this so that it doesn't explode into a crisis is to hand it off to someone who doesn't know it's a crisis. Someone smart enough to work the problem but low-profile enough to slip under everyone's radar. And I do mean everyone's." Javna nodded at the intercepts lying on Heffer's desk.

"You know someone like this?" Heffer said.

"I do," Javna said. "The guy I have in mind could do it. And he owes me a favor. I got him a job."

"Anyone I'd know about?"

"No, sir. He's pretty low-profile. 'No-profile' would be more like it, actually."

Heffer snorted. "I thought I knew all the smart young kids in this department."

"Not everyone's looking to be Secretary of state by the time they're thirty, sir."

"Good. Because I'm sixty-seven and I like my job, and I want to keep it a little bit longer. So get going with this." Heffer reached into his desk, hauled out the tube, and slid it over to Javna. "While you or your friend are counting sheep, see if you can figure out where the hell this came from and who made it. Quietly. Whoever put this together can tell us things. Things I think we need to know."

"Yes, sir." Javna took the object and pocketed it.

Heffer reached over, snatched the intercepts off his desk, and yanked out his trash basket with the shredder on top. "And whatever you do, make it fast. Between the Nidu and Pope, I get the distinct feeling of time ticking. I don't want either of them knowing more than we know. You think your friend can keep us ahead of them?"

"I think so, sir," Javna said.

"Good," Heffer said, and fed the intercepts into the shredder.

It was close to midnight when Dave Phipps got on the blue line train at the Pentagon, with a copy of The Washington Times to keep him company. He switched over to the orange line, riding it to its terminus at the Vienna-Fairfax stop. He got out and found himself alone on the platform except for a middle-aged guy in a ratty Washington Senators cap, sitting on one of the benches.

"Hey, can I borrow your paper?" the guy asked. "I've got a long ride into town."

"I will if tell me why you wear that disgusting cap of yours," Phipps said.

"Call it an affectation," the guy said.

"You know the Senators haven't been good for years," Phipps said.

"The Senators have never been good," the guy said. "That's part of their appeal. They're the second most pathetic team in the history of baseball and would be first, if it weren't for the fact that they go out of business every couple of decades and give the Cubs time to lengthen their lead. Now are you going to give me the goddamn paper, or do I have to push you in front of a train and take it from you?"

Phipps grinned and handed over the paper. "I was Special Forces, Schroeder. You've never been anything but soft, Ivy-league lobbyist. It wouldn't be me underneath the wheels, pal."

"Talk, talk, talk," Jean Schroeder said. "Maybe so, Phipps. Maybe so. And yet, look at which one of us is schlepping his sorry ass to Virginia to give me a newspaper." Schroeder fished through the paper. "So where the hell did you hide the transcript, anyway?"

"The comics page," Phipps said.

"Oh, very nice," Schroeder said, changing sections.

"It's mostly about sheep," Phipps said. "Apparently they're looking for a particular breed."

"Android's Dream," Schroeder said. "I know. They're not likely to find it. It's my understanding that the breed has been wiped out."

"You have something to do with that?" Phipps asked.

"I just know many things," Schroeder said.

"They're looking for it anyway," Phipps said.

"So I read," Schroeder said. "Or more accurately, would read, if someone would shut their yap hole long enough for me to concentrate." Phipps grinned again and fell silent. Schroeder read.

"Interesting," he said when was finished. "Futile, but interesting. Still, it wouldn't be smart to underestimate Heffer and Javna. Heffer got Webster elected, after all, and that really put a ding in our plans. And Javna counts as half of his brain. You guys have no idea who it is Javna's talking about?"

"No," Phipps said. "He said it's someone he gave a job to, but that's about half of the State Department at this point."

"You should have him watched. Discreetly," Schroeder said. "And you should probably start your own search for any sheep with DNA. Just in case. I can get you a sample."

"It amazes me how little you think I know about my job," Phipps said.

"I'm just advising," Schroeder said.

"Like you advised Moeller to kill that trade representative," Phipps said.

"He wasn't supposed to kill him," Schroeder said. "Just enrage him enough that negotiations came to a screeching halt."

"Well, they did," Phipps said. "And then he did."

"That's a shame, too," Schroeder said. "I had other plans for him."

"Real torn up about Moeller, aren't you?"

Schroeder shrugged. "He was my father's project, not mine," he said. "I was friendly to him because he was useful. And he made good barbeque. Pope's still unaware of my relationship with Moeller and my participation in this event, I assume."

Phipps pointed at the transcript. "That makes it pretty obvious it wasn't an accident, doesn't it. He knows Moeller's history and that he worked for your dad. But at this point, he figures Moeller was freelancing for his own reasons."

"He was," Schroeder said. "I just helped in the implementation."

"Whatever," Phipps said. "Short story is that you're unsuspected. As am I. In fact, Pope suggested I contact you, seeing as you've been helpful with off-the-book investigations before. I'm actually supposed to be here this time. We might need your help."

"I love it when a plan comes together," Schroeder said.

"That makes it sound like you planned it to go like this," Phipps said.

"Oh, no," Schroeder admitted. "We're way off track from where I thought we'd be. But maybe it's better this way. We had only expected to derail the talks and the coronation. Now we might actually get a revolution."

"Unless they find the sheep," Phipps said.

"They're not going to find the sheep," Schroeder said. "They've got a billion sheep to sift through in a week. And they'd have to find the sheep before we do. They might do one, but not the other. No matter how good Javna's friend is, no one is that good."