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"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 Amba.s.sador conducted himself on Planet Pluto.
Accuse the Amba.s.sador 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 s.h.i.+fted 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 a.s.sess 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 wars.h.i.+ps 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 s.h.i.+ps as quickly as possible to join in the operation. Also, and be shrewd in presenting this: INOR s.h.i.+p 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 cus.h.i.+oned 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 ent.i.tled 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."