"It is our understanding," Warringer told them, "that you are requesting recognition of your government in a public forum and that you wish to engage in a trade of fuel for food products. Unfortunately it is not possible for our government to condone the actions that you have taken against your mother nation. We cannot, in good faith, recognize your government or those actions as official or just. We must in fact condemn what you have done and speak out publicly against it. Grievances should be aired in courtrooms and on the Internet, not by force of arms or by the capture of a possession. It is our duty as a civilized nation to implore you to give up your illegal action before any more blood is shed."
"Jesus, this is pretty thick," Jackson said.
"Yep," Laura agreed.
"However," Warringer continued, "since we realize that you are unlikely to give up your ill-gotten gains at the present time and since we also realize that the welfare of the common people on your planet depend upon a steady supply of hydrogen fuel, we might be willing to engage in a limited amount of the sort of trade that you mentioned."
Laura and Jackson both had a sharp, cynical laugh at this statement.
"Beautiful," Laura said. "They'll do it for our common people."
"Of course such trade would have to be kept... shall we say... under the table," Warringer told them next.
"Of course," Jackson commented.
"We might be persuaded to arrange for some quiet shipments of fuel to your orbiting space dock in exchange for shiploads of food surplus. It would be imperative that such shipments be kept secret from the general public and from the WestHem government. Please respond at your convenience, using the same communication method as your original message. If these rather generous terms that we are offering you are deemed acceptable, and if the full council agrees, we can commence with some quiet negotiations of the terms of this trade.
"Awaiting your reply, William Warringer."
The screen blanked out, leaving the two of them two stare at it for a moment.
"Christ," Laura finally said. "I don't know why I'm surprised by this but I am. Those EastHem morons don't know the deal of a lifetime when it's staring them in the damn face."
"What now?" Jackson asked.
"Now," she said, "we send a reply back and lay our cards down on the table." She turned to the computer screen on her desk once more. "Computer, open mail program. Addressee, EastHem ruling council. Highest level of encryption."
The computer repeated what she had said and told her to record when ready.
EastHem capital building, London
May 28, 2146
They had all been on the verge of leaving for the day when Jennings informed them all that a reply had come in from Mars. This was surprising to them — they hadn't expected to hear from Laura Whiting for at least another twenty-four hours — but they nevertheless gathered back in the executive briefing room to view it.
"It's only been six hours since we sent our message," Cassidy said sourly as she took her seat near the head of the table. "When you account for the travel time of the radio signals, she couldn't have spent more than thirty minutes or so before she answered us."
"She's desperate," someone suggested. "She wants to open negotiations for our deal as quickly as possible."
They all informally agreed that that was probably the case.
"Open message," Billings told the computer once everyone was seated and paying attention.
The lights dimmed down once more and the screen came to life. Laura Whiting's face greeted them for the second time that day. She did not appear very happy.
"This message is in response to the insulting reply that you gave us to our offer," she said sternly, making everyone gasp a little at her insolence. The image took a deep breath and stared into the camera. "Look, people," she told them next. "We are in a very desperate situation here on Mars and we don't have time to play nice little political games and negotiate back and forth. Nor are we willing to accept clandestine shipments on your terms. I believe I made that point perfectly clear in my first message. This is the deaclass="underline" We will trade one half of our monthly food surplus for three hundred million metric tons of liquid hydrogen per month. You will provide the shipping for both of these commodities and we will supply the labor needed to load and unload it. In order for this deal to be binding, we require public acknowledgment of our government and public acknowledgment that we are an independent nation. That is it. These terms are not open to negotiation or change. Take it or leave it. We require an answer within twenty-four hours. That answer will be either yes or no. If you fail to respond to us or if you send me a message from some political underling or if you send me a message that asks for some modification of this deal, there will be no deal. Half of our food surplus should be more than enough to compel you to do as we ask and it is well beyond fair.
"Awaiting your reply, Laura Whiting."
The first, instinctive reaction around the table was outrage. The council members erupted into a chorus of indignant exclamations, shocked words, and even a few utterings of politically incorrect profanity, the likes of which was rarely heard in such a setting. They could not believe that this Martian woman, this greenie, would dare talk to the ruling council of the most powerful nation in the solar system in such a manner. There was talk of simply abandoning the entire deal on that basis alone. The Democratic Republic of the Eastern Hemisphere certainly did not wish to do business with uncouth, uncivilized welfare scum who did not follow or apparently even know the most basic rules of propriety. It took several minutes for it to even occur to anyone just how magnanimous of a deal they were actually being offered.
It was one of the junior members of the council, the forty-five year old representative of the Zimbabwe region in Africa (though she had never actually been to Zimbabwe, which was one of the worst and largest slums on the planet), who finally ventured that maybe they should think about this for a second.
"They are offering us half of their monthly surplus," she hesitantly said during a lull in the blathering. She blushed a little as she said this. As the newest member of such a powerful group of people, she was not yet accustomed to adapting a stance that was different than the majority. "Maybe we should consider that factor for just a few moments."
The table grew silent and all eyes turned to her.
"Are you saying," asked Billings, "that you would actually consider engaging in trade with such barbarians? With a woman who sends a message to us demanding that we bend to her terms? That offers us... us, an ultimatum?"
"Well," she said, nervous but determined to stand her ground and make her point, "I will be the first to agree that the way in which we were addressed by this Whiting woman is reprehensible. But on the other hand, we can't really fault the deal that she is offering now, can we?" She looked up at the ceiling, towards the computer audio inputs. "Computer, what is the monthly food surplus from the WestHem colony of Mars?"
"On average," the computer answered, "the surplus amounts to thirty-six billion metric tons of various agricultural products. Would you like a breakdown by category?"
"No thank you," she said. "I believe I've made my point." She looked back at the council members, all of whom were already softening their expressions. "She's offering us eighteen billion tons of food products per month. Eighteen billion in exchange for a mere three hundred million tons of hydrogen. That is three tankers full of hydrogen in exchange for more than a hundred cargo ships full of food products. I don't know about your sponsors, but mine would certainly want me to give serious consideration to accepting this deal in light of the sheer amount that we're talking about. That is enough to boost our economy into the stratosphere. All of our national debt would be paid off, our deficit spending would come to an end, and of course our sponsors would benefit very highly." As an afterthought she added, "It would also serve to end much of the famine in the Africa and Middle East regions."