29 March 2096: Eberly’s office

I think I know why you asked for this meeting,” said Eberly, with a trace of smugness in his expression.

Jake Wanamaker and Manuel Gaeta sat on the two leather and chrome chairs before Eberly’s desk. Neither man looked cowed or subservient in the slightest. On the contrary, Gaeta seemed determined, Wanamaker downright belligerent.

“We’ve come to inform you that we’re going to use one of the transfer craft,” said Wanamaker.

“For another ride out to the rings,” Eberly said. “I found out about your little mission. It’s for Dr. Wunderly, isn’t it?”

“That’s right,” Wanamaker replied.

“And why should I help you to conduct a mission that might confirm that there are living creatures in the rings? That wouldn’t be in the best interests of this habitat.”

“It wouldn’t be in your best interest, perhaps,” Wanamaker said evenly.

Smiling at them, Eberly said, “My only interest is the welfare of this habitat. As chief administrator, I am responsible—”

“Never mind the mierditas,” Gaeta muttered. “We’re not gonna vote for you anyway.”

Eberly broke into a bitter laugh. “So why should I help you?”

“As you said,” replied Wanamaker, “for the good of the habitat.”

“And how would finding living creatures in the rings benefit this habitat? Except to bring another horde of scientists here? We’re going to mine those rings for their water content; we don’t want any interference from scientific do-gooders who think every little bug in the solar system is too sacred to touch.” Looking at Gaeta, he added, “You wanted to go to the surface of Titan and Urbain wouldn’t let you, remember? Why should you help the scientists?”

Before Gaeta could reply, Wanamaker leaned his broad-shouldered body toward the desk; Eberly reflexively tipped his chair back away from him.

“Let me draw a picture for you,” Wanamaker said, raising his big-knuckled right fist. Extending his index finger, “First, let’s say we don’t go to the rings and you start mining operations. The scientists will examine some of the ring particles your miners bring back. They find organisms in the ice. They call the ICU. The ICU asks the International Astronautical Authority to put a halt to the mining.”

Eberly’s chiseled jaw went up a notch, “Just because those Earthbound bureaucrats—”

Wanamaker silenced him by raising his next finger. “Okay, you tell the IAA to stick it where the sun don’t shine. They send a ship full of Peacekeepers to enforce their ban on mining. What do you do then?”

Frowning, stalling for time to think, Eberly temporized, “They wouldn’t send troops. Not right away.”

“Maybe not right away, but sooner or later. The whole scientific community, from Mercury to this habitat, would be raising a howl about killing off the ring creatures.”

“We’d fight them in the Worlds Court.”

“And lose.”

“We’d declare ourselves an independent nation, not subject to the IAA’s regulations.”

Nodding, Wanamaker said, “You could do that. The rock rats over at Ceres would probably support you: they need the water. Maybe even Selene would come in on your side. And what would you have?”

“A war,” Gaeta answered. “An interplanetary war.”

“Which you couldn’t win,” Wanamaker said grimly. “This eggshell could be blown away before you could blink an eye.”

Eberly’s voice went hollow. “They wouldn’t do that.”

“Are you sure? Are you willing to take the risk?”

For a long, long moment the office was absolutely silent except for the whisper of the air hissing through the ventilation ducts.

Wanamaker raised a third finger. “On the other hand, suppose we go out to the rings and find that Wunderly’s wrong, there aren’t any bugs living in the ice particles. Then you’re free and clear.”

“But if there really are ice creatures out there …”

“If the rings harbor living creatures it’s going to come out sooner or later,” Wanamaker insisted. “You can’t keep it a secret forever. Isn’t it better to know now, before you start making promises that you can’t keep?”

“Before you start a fuckin’ war,” Gaeta threw in.

Eberly was thinking as fast as he could. A war. This habitat could be destroyed, just like the rock rats’ habitat at Ceres was wiped out. We could all get killed. I could get killed!

“We need your approval to use one of the transfer craft,” Wanamaker said. “The form is in your mail. It needs your signature.”

If they find living creatures in the rings, Eberly was thinking, I can blame the scientists for not letting us mine the rings. I can blame the ICU and the IAA. The people will see that it’s not my fault. They won’t blame me. They’ll still vote for me.

“Well?” Wanamaker demanded. “What’s it going to be?”

I’m trapped. No matter what I do I’m trapped.

“What’s it gonna be?” Gaeta repeated.

I can show the voters that I’ve been forced to give up on the ring mining idea, Eberly thought. Or maybe ask them if they want to fight for their rights. Yes! That’s it! I’ll lead them in a battle for our independence. I’ll appeal to the people of Earth not to destroy us, not to kill ten thousand men and women over some microscopic bugs. That could work. It doesn’t have to come to a war. And if it does, I can negotiate a peace agreement, become the peacemaker. The man who saved the habitat from destruction.

Wanamaker cleared his throat.

Eberly called out, “Computer!”

The smart wall to the left of his desk began to glow. Eberly asked for the permission document that Wanamaker had sent. It appeared on the wall. He picked up the stylus on his desk and signed his name on the desktop touchpad. His signature appeared on the document displayed by the wall screen, bold and flowing.

Wanamaker got to his feet, satisfied. “Thank you, sir. You’ve done the right thing.”

“Yes,” said Eberly. “We’ll see.”

Gaeta rose, too. “Now all we gotta do is fly out to the fregado rings.”

Eberly nodded, thinking to himself, I hope you get yourself killed out there. You and your whole crew. Including Pancho Lane.

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